This was . . . interesting to write. I definitely feel like it was not one of my best works . . . tell me how I did at the end, please!

Also, is it just me, or did the Family keep the exact same facial expressions for the entire episode? Just a random thought.

Anyway, here's "Family of Blood!"

***

"Make your decision, Mr. Smith," Jenny glared.

Latimer, hidden in the shadows, crouched down and slowly opened the gold fob watch. Tendrils of gold energy shimmered out and snaked along the floor, so thin no one noticed. He, however, could see the energy wrap around Alicia's feet, slowly working its way up her body.

"Perhaps if that human heart breaks," Baines grinned, not seeing Alicia slowly blink, looking around at her predicament as if confused, before realization dawned in her eyes, "the Time Lord will emerge."

"Uh," Alicia stammered, swallowing hard. "Can I . . . can I just say something?"

"Quiet, woman," Baines glared at her.

"Well, I was going to be nice," Alicia rolled her eyes. "But here's a good lesson . . . your father got the wrong arm." Mr. Clark frowned in confusion -

Alicia twisted her arm in a way that made Mr. Clark follow, making the man howl in pain. She turned and grabbed his upper arm, then flipped the man over her shoulder, sending him crashing into one of the tables. Joan screamed and scrambled back, along with the other party guests. Baines stepped forward, raising his gun, but Alicia snatched the sonic blaster from its place on the table, also grabbing one of the knives there. She turned and threw, Martha flinching and closing her eyes, seeing it head straight for her.

Jenny cried out in pain, releasing Martha, and Martha backed away, stunned, seeing the former maid nurse her bleeding hand.

"I thought it was simple," Alicia twirled the sonic blaster around her finger, nodding her head with its movements. "Every alien in the universe knows Creators are all right-handed, and you thought to leave that one alone? Sloppy," she tsked, turning around. "Very sloppy, Son."

"Alchemist," Baines hissed, eyes lighting up. "The last of the Creators."

"Hi!" she grinned, giving a wave. "Martha, take care of your friend, will you?" Martha did as she was told and grabbed Jenny, taking her gun and putting it to her head instead. "One move, she shoots," the Alchemist nodded at Martha.

"Oh, you are both full of fire," Baines remarked.

"And you can shut up," Martha snapped, raising the gun and firing into the air.

"Careful, Son of Mine," Mr. Clark grunted as he tried to get back to his feet. "This is all for you so that you can live forever."

"Shoot you down," Baines threatened the Alchemist, the two of them locked in a standoff.

"Oho, I would love to see you try," she narrowed her eyes.

"Would you really pull the trigger?" Baines looked at Martha. "Looks too scared."

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

Baines snarled, but he lowered his gun, along with Mr. Clark and Lucy. "Good," the Alchemist nodded. "Now get everyone out."

"What?" Martha blinked, looking at her.

"You heard me," the Alchemist didn't look away from Baines. "Get everyone out."

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

"I'm not leaving!" Martha shook her head, looking at the Alchemist.

"Martha," the Alchemist gave her a dirty look. "Go." Martha swallowed, then nodded and left. "That includes you, too, John," the Alchemist turned to look at the human Doctor.

"What about you?" he asked.

The Alchemist shrugged. "I always find a way." John frowned, uneasy, but reluctantly left. "Now," the Alchemist smiled, turning to look at the Family. "Where were we?"

"She's brave, this one," Baines remarked.

"I should have taken her form," Jenny tilted her head. "Much more fun. So much spirit."

"Jenny's dead, isn't she?" the Alchemist asked, backing up.

"She is consumed," Jenny nodded. "And she went with precious little dignity. All that screaming."

The Alchemist heard a rustle behind her, then turned and blasted the scarecrow approaching behind her. She ran out through the back exit, running as fast as her boots could allow.

When she got back to the school, or if she could find the TARDIS, she was finding trousers to wear, no matter what.

***

John closed the main doors to the school behind the three of them, then ran to grab the bell and ring it. "What are you doing?" Martha stared at him as Joan caught her breath.

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

"You can't do that!"

"You want me to fight, don't you?" John looked at her. "Take arms! Take arms!"

"I say, sir," Hutchinson looked down from the stairs. "What's the matter?"

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

"You can't do this, Doctor," Martha shook her head, watching guns being passed out and wishing the Alchemist was there right now. "Mr. Smith!"

"Redfern, maintain position over the stable yard," John ignored her. "Faster now. That's it."

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

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

"What in thunder's name in this?" Rocastle demanded as he approached. "Before I devise an excellent and endless series of punishments for each and every one of you, destined to make our librarian sick of us, could someone explain very simply and immediately exactly what is going on?"

"I thought that was obvious," a voice above them said, and Martha's eyes brightened as the Alchemist walked down the stairs, not wearing her everyday outfit, but instead wearing brown trousers and a high-collar tan coat with gold clasps, brown fingerless gloves, and brown battle boots, her blonde hair French braided away from her face. "We're under attack."

"Really?" Rocastle's eyebrows shot up. "Is that so? Perhaps you and I should have a word in private, Miss Morrow . . . and what in God's name are you wearing?"

"Something I wish I didn't have to," the Alchemist retorted, walking to stand by Martha, folding her arms, showing that she had not only one blaster holstered, but two. "But that lot's asking for it."

"I promise you, sir, I was in the village with her and the Matron," John tore his gaze from the Alchemist. "It's Baines, sir. Jeremy Baines and Mr. Clark from Oakham Farm. They've gone mad, sir. They've got guns. They've already murdered people in the village. I saw it happen."

Rocastle frowned and looked at Joan. "Matron, is that so?"

Joan swallowed. "I'm afraid it's true, sir."

"Murder on our own soil?"

"I saw it, yes."

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

"Well, sir," John cleared his throat, looking at the Alchemist, looking confused. "They said - "

"Baines threatened Miss Morrow, sir," Joan offered. "Said he'd follow her. We don't know why."

Rocastle frowned. "Very well. You boys, remain on guard. Mr. Snell, telephone for the police. Mr. Phillips, with me. We shall investigate."

"You'll get yourselves killed doing that," the Alchemist warned, turning as the two teachers approached the main doors.

Rocastle scowled. "Miss Morrow, I am already perplexed as to why you are wearing that . . . choice of clothing. But I do not take orders from women, whether they act like men or not."

"Can I just say, Martha, that I hate this year?" the Alchemist sighed.

"You can," Martha nodded.

"Was this - " the Alchemist waved a hand over the guns being passed out. " - John's idea?"

"It was."

She hung her head. "Remind me to slap him when we get him back."

Martha laughed, giving her a hug. "I am so glad that you are."

The Alchemist patted her on the shoulder. "Come on," she took her hand, pulling her off. "Let's go find his watch."

***

"I know, I know, it sounds mad, it really does," the Alchemist tried to explain for Joan as Martha searched John's study. "When the Doctor and I became human, we took the alien part of ourselves and stored them inside the watches. They're not really watches, they just look like watches . . . did you open mine?" she asked Martha.

"No, I didn't," Martha shook her head.

"Maybe someone else has them, then."

"And alien means not from abroad, I take it," Joan frowned.

"No," the Alchemist shook her head. "We were born on another world."

"A different species."

"Yes."

"Then tell me," Joan frowned. "In this fairytale, who are you?"

"Just a friend," Martha raised a hand.

"I'm his Bonded," the Alchemist looked at Joan.

"And what does that mean?"

"Everything," she said simply.

Joan sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Martha, are you human?"

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

Joan snorted. "Well, that certainly is nonsense. Women might train to be doctors, but hardly a skivvy, and hardly one of your color."

"Really?" The Alchemist turned to Martha, holding up her hand. "Carpal bones, proximal row?"

"Scaphoid, lunate, triquetal, pisiform," Martha recited, using her own hand as a demonstration.

"Distal row?"

"Trapezium, trapezoid, capitate, hamate."

"What about the metacarpal bones?"

"Extend in three distinct phalanges: proximal, middle, distal."

"I rest my case," the Alchemist mock bowed to Joan.

Joan shook her head, refusing to believe it. "You read that in a book."

"Yes," Martha rolled her eyes, "to pass my exams! Can't you see this is true?"

"I must go," Joan turned.

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

"Those boys are going to fight. I might not be a doctor, but I'm still their nurse. They need me."

"Wait." Joan frowned and turned when the Alchemist spoke, but she simply put two leather books together and handed them to Joan. "If you doubt, read them."

Joan gave her a long, considering look, then she turned to go.

***

"You're with Armitage and Thwaites," John was telling the boys. "They know the drill . . . " He trailed off, seeing Joan emerge in her uniform. "Joan, it's not safe."

"I'm doing my duty, just as much as you," Joan told him. "Fine evening we've had."

"Not quite as planned," John admitted.

Joan looked at him. "Where are you from?"

"Nottingham," he said, confused as to what this had to do with the attack.

"Tell me about it."

"Sorry?"

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

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

"That sounds like an encyclopedia," Joan looked at him. "Where did you live?"

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

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

John frowned. Was Joan going to play along as well? "How can you think I'm not real? The entire time I've been here, was that a lie?"

"No, it wasn't," she shook her head. "No!"

"But this Doctor sounds like some . . . some romantic lost prince. Would you rather that?"

"Not unless this Alchemist was the damsel in distress," Joan couldn't help but retort.

"I've got to go," John shook his head, turning to join the students.

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

"Mr. Smith, if you please!" Rocastle called.

"What choice do I have?" John asked, going to the courtyard.

***

Martha gave a frustrated scream and tossed all of John's papers up in the air. "Still no sign?" the Alchemist guessed.

"Nothing!"

"Come on," the Alchemist went outside, going down the stairs. "We need to find him."

The sound of gunfire slowed as they headed for the doors. "They're straw," they heard Mr. Rocastle say. "Like he said, straw."

"Then no one's dead, sir?" Hutchinson asked. "We killed no one?"

Gravel crunched, and Rocastle straightened. "Stand to!" The Alchemist's eyes widened when little Lucy Cartwright approached, still holding her balloon. "You, child," Rocastle gestured to her. "Come out of the way. Come into the school. You don't know who's out there. It's the Cartwright girl, isn't it?" he asked someone nearby. "Come here. Come to me."

"Mr. Rocastle!" Martha burst outside, the Alchemist hurrying after her. "Please, don't go near her!"

"And now your favorite servant is speaking out as well," Rocastle glared. "Be quiet."

"No," the Alchemist said simply. "We're not going to be quiet. That girl is part of this."

"I think you should stay back, Headmaster," Joan advised quietly.

"John?" the Alchemist turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

He swallowed. "She was . . . she was with . . . with Baines, in the village."

"Mr. Smith, I've seen many strange sights this night, but there is no cause on God's Earth that would allow me to see this child in the field of battle, sir," Rocastle glared, then held out his hand to Lucy. "Come with me."

"You're funny," she tilted her head.

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

"So funny," Lucy smiled sweetly, then pulled out a ray gun and vaporized him. She laughed when the Alchemist pointed one of her blasters at her, the other hand held up to stop the students from approaching. "Are you going to shoot me? You, really?"

"I'm sorely tempted," the Alchemist said curtly.

"Put down your guns," John ordered.

"But, sir!" Hutchinson turned to him. "The Headmaster!"

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

"But, sir!"

"I said, lead the way!"

"Well, go on, then!" Baines taunted as he emerged, firing his gun into the air. "Run!"

"Come on!" the Alchemist pulled John towards the stables. "God, you're as stubborn as ever!"

"Let's go," John herded boys through. "Quick as you can."

"Don't go to the village, it's not safe," Martha added.

"And you, ladies," John turned to the three.

"Not till we've got the boys out," even Joan was firm about staying.

"Now, I insist," John turned to the door, "the three of you, just go. If there are any more boys inside, I'll find them."

He opened the door to reveal scarecrows, and the Alchemist just as quickly closed it. "How about retreat?" she asked.

"Retreat sounds fair," John admitted.

***

"Doctor!" Mr. Clark called out as they ran for the bushes. "Alchemist! Come back, you two! Come home! Come and claim your prize!"

"Out you come, Time Lords," Baines grinned as he and Jenny emerged, the four quickly ducking behind cover. "There're good Time Lords. Come to the Family!"

"Time to end it now!" Jenny sang as she and Baines emerged.

The Alchemist poked her head out and sighed. "Here we go."

The others looked out, and Martha groaned, seeing the TARDIS in the hands of the Family, but then she saw John's eyes widen. "You recognize it, don't you?" she asked.

"Come out, you two," Jenny smiled. "Come to us!"

"I've never seen it in my life," John shook his head.

"Do you remember its name?" Martha asked.

"We both dreamt it," the Alchemist looked at him. "We both had it in our journals. The dreams of the blue box."

"I'm not . . . " John shook his head. "I'm John Smith! That's all I want to be! John Smith, with his life, and his job, and his love. Why can't I be John Smith? Isn't he a good man?"

"Yes," the Alchemist nodded immediately. "Yes, he is."

"Why can't I stay?"

"But we need the Doctor!" Martha insisted.

"What am I, then? Nothing?" John stood up, hurrying away. "I'm just a story!"

"This way," Joan turned down a different path. "I think I know somewhere we can hide."

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

"Can you listen to a woman for once in your life?" the Alchemist took his arm in a vicelike grip, turning him around. "We're following you, Joan."

***

"Oh, here we are," Joan approached a picket fence around a cottage. "It should be empty. Oh, it's a long time since I've run that far."

"But who lives here?" Martha asked.

"If I'm right, no one," Joan approached the door and knocked. "Hello?" When no one answered, she opened the door, seeing it was pitch black. "No one home," she said. "We should be safe here."

"Whose house is it?" the Alchemist looked around.

"Er . . . the Cartwrights," Joan fidgeted. "That little girl at the school, she's Lucy Cartwright . . . or she's taken Lucy Cartwright's form. If she came home this afternoon, and if the parents tried to stop their little girl, then . . . they were vanished."

"Stone cold," the Alchemist checked the tea pot.

"How easily I accept these ideas," Joan sighed.

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

"You can't," Joan said. "Alicia, there must be something we can do."

"Yeah, just call me Ali for now," the Alchemist scratched her head. "That would probably be best for us all. And there's not much we can do, not until we find the watch."

There was a knock on the door, and they all turned to it. "What if it's them?" Joan whispered.

"Scarecrows can't knock," the Alchemist walked over, opening the door.

Timothy Latimer looked up at her sheepishly. "I brought you these," he held up their fob watches.

***

"Hold it," Martha urged John as she put the silver watch on the table, the Alchemist checking her fob watch over.

"I won't," John shook his head.

"It told me to find you, just like when hers told me to return it," Latimer looked at the Alchemist's watch. "It wants to be held."

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

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

"I believe it," the Alchemist said softly, putting her watch in her pocket.

"Why?" Joan asked, surprised. Martha was, too. The Alchemist was scared of the Doctor?

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

"Stop it," John mumbled.

Latimer didn't. "He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time, and he can see the turn of the universe."

"Stop it!" John turned to him. "I said stop it!"

"And it is nothing compared to how terrified I am of you," Latimer looked at the Alchemist, making everyone turned to the blonde, who was considering the boy. "You, who hated him with every fibre of your being, which turned so quickly to love that could never die. You, who wielded time and space once in battle, then did it again to save his life, only for him to save you. The power you have is only just the beginning. And the things that will happen . . . " He shook his head. "I'm bloody terrified."

"And that also does not surprise me," the Alchemist shook her head. "God bless your soul, Tim."

"I've still got these," Joan held up the leather books. "The journals."

"Those are just stories," John shook his head.

"And one of them's right in front of you!" Martha waved at the Alchemist.

"Perhaps there's something in here," Joan mused.

Something exploded, and the cottage lit up. "What the hell?" Martha gawked.

"Don't look," the Alchemist didn't turn.

Joan did. "They're destroying the village!" she gasped.

"The watch," John suddenly said.

"John, don't," Joan began.

"Closer."

"Can you hear it?" the Alchemist asked softly, turning to him.

"Closer."

"I think he's asleep," John reached for the watch. "Waiting to awaken . . . "

"Little man . . . "

"Why did you speak to me?" Latimer asked.

The Alchemist opened her mouth, but it was John who answered, seeming much more upbeat. "Oh, low level telepathic field," the Doctor said. "You were born with it. Just an extra synaptic engram causing - " He gasped, suddenly reverting back to John, and none of them missed the Alchemist turn away, her hand covering her mouth, tears filling her eyes. "Is that how he talks?"

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

"You knew this all along, and yet you watched while Miss Morrow and I - ?"

"I wasn't going to stop you when it was the Alchemist," Martha narrowed her eyes. "You gave me a list of things to watch out for, but that wasn't included."

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

"He was already in love with the Alchemist!" Martha exploded. "Of course it didn't!"

"Do you expect me to die?"

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

"So your job was to execute me?" John raised an eyebrow.

SLAP.

"Don't you dare," the Alchemist glared at him, tears spilling from her eyes as she gave John a death glare, she shaking from trying to hold herself together, John staring at her in shock as he held his red cheek from where she had hit him. "Don't you even dare accuse me of wanting to kill you. Maybe I did before, but I've changed. We've changed. The Doctor means everything to me, and when I was Alicia, you meant everything to me. Never assume I would want you dead."

"It's getting closer," Latimer's voice cut through the tension.

"I should have thought of it before," John picked up the watch. "I can give them this. Just the watch, then they can leave, and I can stay as I am."

"Oh, for . . . " The Alchemist turned away, sniffing and rubbing at her eyes.

"He'll never let you do it!" Martha glared at John.

"If they get what they want, then, then - "

"Then it all ends in destruction," Joan looked up. "The ending of Alicia's journal. Those creatures would live forever to breed and conquer, for war across the stars for every child."

"Just . . . " the Alchemist said quietly. "Leave us alone. Please?"

Joan urged Latimer out, then Martha followed them. John looked over at her, but the Alchemist slowly turned, hugging herself as she paced. "If I could do this instead of you, then I would," she told him. "But it seems that I'm the Time Lady now."

John looked down at his watch. "He won't love you."

"Was that not in your dreams?" the Alchemist looked up. "Alicia could see it, bright as day. The love the Doctor and the Alchemist share . . . nothing can replace it."

"But it was real," John insisted. "I wasn't . . . I really thought . . . "

The Alchemist shook her head. "The Doctor I know, he could never have a life like ours," she turned. "The adventures we have, we could never settle down."

"And yet we could," John offered.

The Alchemist swallowed hard. "So what are you going to do?"

***

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

The door to the ship opened, and John stumbled in, holding his watch. "Just - " Another shot went off, and he collapsed against a column of switches. "Just, stop the bombardment!" he begged. "That's all I'm asking. I'll do anything you want. Just . . . just stop!"

"Say please," Baines tilted his head.

"Please!"

Jenny flipped a switch, and the cannons fell silent. "Wait a minute," she sniffed. "Still human."

"Now, I can't . . . I can't pretend to understand, not for a second," John got to his feet, hands struggling for a grip on the control board. "But I want you to know I'm innocent in all this. He made me John Smith. It's not like I had any control over it."

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

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

"I don't care about this Doctor and your family," John shook his head. "I just want you to go, so I've made my choice. You can have him. Just take it, please! Take him away!"

"At last," Baines grinned when John held out the watch. He took the watch with one hand, then grabbed John's lapels with the other. "Don't think that saved your life," he warned, pushing him away, ignoring switches being activated when he hit the wall. "Family of Mine," Baines announced, "now we shall have the lives of a Time Lord." He opened the watch, and the entire Family sniffed deeply, then Baines growled. "It's empty!"

"Where's it gone?" John asked, confused, looking around.

"You tell me!" Baines glared, throwing the watch at him.

John held up his hand and caught it without looking. "Oh, I think the explanation might be you've been fooled by a simple olfactory misdirection," the Doctor got to his feet, dusting himself off. "Little bit like ventriloquism of the nose. It's an elementary trick in certain parts of the galaxy, but it has got to be said . . . I don't like the looks of that hydroconometer," he pointed. "It seems to be indicating you've got energy feedback all the way through the retrostabilizers, feeding back into the primary heat converters. Oh, because if there's one thing you shouldn't have done, you shouldn't have let me press all those buttons. But, in fairness, I will give you one word of advice." He turned. "Run."

He turned and ran out of the ship, closely followed by the Family. When the ship exploded behind him, throwing the Family to the ground, he had eyes only for the Alchemist as she approached, hands in her pockets. "Your turn," he said simply.

She gave him a feral grin in reply.

***

Latimer had been right. The Doctor upset was something Martha never wanted to experience. The Alchemist had been completely worse.

She had been the one to come up with the Family's punishments, and the Doctor had stood by and let her do it. First, she handcrafted unbreakable chains in the heart of a dwarf star and sent the Father falling into a deep pit. The Doctor was the one who sent the Mother into the horizon of a collapsing galaxy, imprisoning her there forever. Using some trick Martha hadn't seen, the Alchemist trapped the Daughter in every mirror, and Martha was still admittedly taken aback every time she saw the girl peek around.

And now, as she waited by the TARDIS, she knew they were giving the Son his punishment: immobilizing him, making him a scarecrow to watch over England.

***

Joan was cleaning up the Cartwrights' cottage when she heard the door silently creak open. "Is it done?" she asked.

"It's done," the Doctor's voice confirmed.

She turned to see the Doctor and the Alchemist step inside, the Alchemist still in her battle gear, the Doctor wearing his pinstripe suit. "The police and the army are at the school," Joan said. "The parents have come to take the boys home. I should go. They'll have so many questions. I'm not sure what to say . . . oh, you look the same," she couldn't help but say. "Goodness, you must forgive my rudeness. I find it difficult to look at you. Doctor and Alchemist. I must call you Doctor and Alchemist. Where are they? John Smith and Alicia Morrow?"

"They're in us somewhere," the Doctor shrugged.

"Like a story," Joan shook her head. "Could you change back?"

"Yes."

"Will you?"

Both shook their heads. "No."

"I see," Joan frowned. "Well, then, they were braver than you in the end, those ordinary two. You chose to change. They chose to die. You made him choose to die," Joan added to the Alchemist.

"Alicia didn't choose to die," the Alchemist shook her head. "The watch returned to me."

"And don't accuse her of making me choose," the Doctor frowned. "That was his decision, his alone."

Joan sighed. "Answer me this. Just one question, that's all. If the Doctor and the Alchemist had never visited us, if they'd never chosen this place on a whim, would anybody here have died?"

The Doctor looked down and away, and Joan swallowed. "You can go."

The Doctor nodded and left without a word. The Alchemist stepped forward and took Alicia's leather journal from where it was on the table. "You can keep John's," she said, looking up. "I know you loved him."

Joan nodded numbly, hugging it to her chest, crying softly. The Alchemist squeezed her shoulder, then turned and left.

***

"Right, then," the Doctor said as they walked up to where Martha was waiting with the TARDIS. "Molto bene."

"How was she?" Martha asked.

"Time we moved on," the Doctor changed the topic.

Martha cleared her throat. "If you want, I could go and - "

"Time we moved on," the Doctor emphasized.

Martha smiled at them. "And thanks for looking after us," the Alchemist added, giving her a hug.

Martha hugged her back. "Any time."

"Doctor! Alchemist! Martha!"

They all turned to see Latimer run up to them. "Tim Timothy Timber!" the Doctor grinned.

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

"You don't have to fight," Martha shook her head.

"I think we do."

"But you could get hurt."

"Well, so could you, traveling around with them, but it's not going to stop you."

"I like him," the Alchemist grinned.

"Tim," the Doctor pulled out his silver fob watch. "I'd be honored if you'd take this."

Latimer took the watch, then frowned. "I can't hear anything."

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

Latimer nodded, and the Alchemist gave him a hug. "Good luck, Tim," she kissed his forehead before going inside.

"Look after yourself," Martha added before going inside.

"You'll like this bit," the Doctor winked before going inside to make the TARDIS dematerialize.

***

"Right, so, other than the last night, I'm drawing a blank," the Doctor sat down with the Alchemist and Martha in the library. "What happened?"

"Well, nothing out of the ordinary," Martha shook her head. "You were as bad as you are now - "

"We couldn't have been that bad," the Alchemist frowned.

"How the hell am I supposed to know what qualifies as bad in 1913?"

"Before then?" the Doctor asked. "First, second month?"

"Er . . . " Martha scratched her head, looking down. "You two . . . " She squirmed. "Er . . . you hated each other."

"What?" both Time Lords looked at each other, stunned.

"You fought left and right," Martha nodded. "The Headmaster had to come several times to settle disputes in the library. And - " She cut off, seeing the realization in their eyes. "What?"

"Of course," the Alchemist sighed, leaning forward and rubbing her temples. "The last ones."

"Figures they'd break through first," the Doctor admitted.

"Last whats?" Martha frowned.

"When we first met," the Alchemist gestured between herself and the Doctor, "I wanted to kill him. We hated each other so much."

"No, you hated me," the Doctor corrected.

"There had to be some times."

He thought. "Well . . . maybe a few."

"Point is, you can see where we are now," the Alchemist gestured to themselves. "We fixed our relationship, got to here . . . but it's still always there, in the back of our minds. It won't go away."

"Well, I'm glad they're gone," Martha shrugged. "I nearly had a heart attack when you didn't get along."

"I think we would, too," the Doctor grinned.

"Well, since we were up all night," the Alchemist stood up and stretched, "I am going to go get some sleep."

"Night," Martha offered.

"Sleep well, Namara," the Doctor said.

"See you," she answered, heading out the door.

When she was gone, the Doctor winced, seeing the glare Martha gave him. "Did I really shout at her that badly?" he asked.

"The resident Matron was a constant pain," Martha folded her arms. "She was a nurse. John's mother was a nurse. Alicia took it as a reason why you might go to Joan. And then only last night, Joan asked what exactly it meant for you two to be Bonded, and John accused the Alchemist if it was her idea to kill him. She's been through a lot. It needs to be fixed, Doctor."

"I know," the Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. "I will, I promise."

"Good," Martha smiled. "And I'm going to go get some sleep as well."

"Night," the Doctor told her, looking into the fireplace as Martha left.

"Oh," Martha turned to him before she left. "If you really are having doubts . . . the Alchemist kept Alicia's journal."

The Doctor watched her go, then groaned and rubbed his face. "Why is it always me that messes up?" he asked thin air.

As he expected, the air gave no answer.

***

As you can see . . . probably not my best work. *sigh* Better luck next time.

Back to "The Diaries of a Teenage Time Lady!" Oh, my God, Anna is SO much fun to write. :P Hope you all tune in for "The Unquiet Dead!"