Disclaimer: All Doctor Who characters belong to their respective writers, actors, and most of all, the wonderful BBC. Izzy is mine.

A/N: First off—I know, I am a horrible person and a disgraceful hypocrite. I have become exactly the sort of author that peeved me. Truthfully, with all my other stresses, I just lacked the motivation.

Which brings me to my second point—a lovely review by TheDoctorHarkness (with the help of the holiday season) was the straw on top of it all to finally get my butt back in gear.

So as a holiday gift, late as it may be, enjoy this newest installment and the modest helping of angst it may bring.

XXXXXXXX

"Make your decision, Mr. Smith," barked Jenny while the teacher struggled to cope with the options.

"Perhaps if that human heart breaks the Time Lord will emerge." Baines mused while Mr. Clark leaned into to Izzy with a deep sniff. He leaned back in some surprise, looking ready to speak when a high whine interrupted him and the Family looked up and away.

The distraction provided enough leverage for Martha to overpower Jenny. With an angry squeal she wrestled the gun away from the alien and kept a threatening arm around its neck. The noise stopped and the crowd gasped when they realized the tables had turned.

"One more move," Martha pointed the gun at Baines, "and I shoot."

"Oh the maid is full of violence," Baines said with a mad sense of excitement.

"And you can shut up!" Martha shot into the ceiling, eliciting more gasps.

"Careful, Son of Mine," Mr. Clark warned at Baines' crazed look. The robust body leaned more away from Izzy. "This is all for you, so that you can live forever." Baines merely inclined his head.

"Shoot you down?" The alien raised his gun.

"Try it," Martha challenged. "We'll die together."

His mouth twitched. "Would you really pull the trigger?" She pursed her lips in response. He looked smug. "Looks too scared," he taunted.

"Scared and holding a gun isn't a good combination. D'you wanna risk it?"

Baines looked to the still-conflicted Mr. Smith before the Family lowered their guns slowly. Mr. Clark let her go and Izzy let out a breath. She rushed away, back to Mr. Smith's side.

"Izzy? Get everyone out, there's a door on the side." Izzy hesitated, looking between her friend and the terrified crowd. "Go on!"

After a moment's pause, Izzy started towards the people. Mr. Smith still looked undecided. "Do what she says. Everyone get out, now!" she ushered. "Yes, out through the door. Everyone, all of you, no questions, they're madmen, that's all you need to know. All of you, out!" Screaming people pushed themselves out the door and through the gate, running blindly away from the threat. Mr. Smith finally joined her, ushering a student out from behind her.

"Go on, get back to the school, quickly!" he pushed the boy, Timothy, out the door.

"You too," Martha said steadily. "Go on, shift!"

"What about you?" Mr. Smith moved back towards her.

"Martha—" Izzy started to protest.

"Mr. Smith, I think you should escort your lady friend to safety, don't you?" Martha said coldly.

"No, Martha—" Izzy started back but Mr. Smith grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out through the door.

The teacher stopped her just outside the gate and started barking orders. "Mr. Hitch, warn the village, get everyone out." He turned to the student, his hand still around Izzy. "Latimer, get back to the school and tell the headmaster—"

The boy pulled away. "Don't touch me! You're as bad as them." Mr. Smith stared after the running boy in shock and Izzy used the opportunity to pull her arm free.

"Doctor, she'll be killed! We have to go back in!"

Mr. Smith looked at her fully. His face had a broken look to it, similar to the tortured expression the Doctor so often wore, but different. Just like everything else with him—like the Doctor, but so very much not him. "So you believe her? You were a companion to him, too?"

"Yes, I was—," she started. "John, I—"

The sudden arrival of Martha cut her off. "Don't just stand there, move!" She pushed and fled past them, "God, you're rubbish as a human. Come on!"

Mr. Smith recovered and grabbed Izzy's hand to run, like the Doctor often did. Izzy pulled up the dress a bit, her mind busy with careful words that later might possibly explain everything to the man. Her growing care for him made it much more difficult to treat him as Martha did—like an obstacle to overcome to get to the Doctor, or a setting on a machine that refused to cooperate. Everything with Mr. Smith—much like his doppelganger—seemed to make things difficult for her.

XXXXXXXXX

They slowed their sprint when they reached the main hall. Mr. Smith grabbed a hand bell from the table beside him and began to ring it loudly.

"What're you doing?" Martha protested.

"Maybe one man can't fight them but this school teaches us to stand together." He shouted in a louder voice, "Take arms! Take arms!"

"Stop doing that!" she shrieked.

"You want to fight, don't you?" He shouted back. "Take arms! Take arms!"

Hutchinson pulled on his coat and stopped in front of the teacher on the stairs. "I say sir, what's happening?"

"Enemy at the door, Hutchinson," Mr. Smith still rang the bell, "enemy at the door! Take arms!"

XXXXXXXXX

"You can't do this, Doctor. Mr. Smith!" Martha pleaded as the teacher rushed to instruct the students. "There's no point! You can't ask them to fight, they won't stand a chance."

He stopped and zeroed in on her. "They are cadets, Miss Jones. They are trained to defend the King and all his citizens and providences."

Izzy stepped in. "Yes, John, but—"

The headmaster cut her off. "What in thunder's name is this?" he stormed. "Before I devise an excellent and endless series of punishments for each and every one of you, could someone explain," Mr. Smith neared him calmly, "very simply and immediately what the hell is going on?"

"Headmaster, I regret to report that the school is under attack."

"Really? Is that so?" His thunder stolen, his tone became grim. "Perhaps you and I shall have a word in private."

"I promise you, sir, I was in the village with Matron. It's Baines, sir, Jeremy Baines and Mr. Clark from Oakham Farms, they've gone mad, sir. They've got guns—they've already murdered people in the village, I saw it happen."

The headmaster looked steadily at Izzy. "Matron, is that so?"

She glanced at Mr. Smith. "I'm afraid it's true, sir."

"Murder? On our own soil?"

"Yes, I saw it with my own eyes."

"Perhaps you did well then, Mr. Smith. What makes you think they're coming here?"

"Well, sir," the teacher hesitated, "they sent, um—"

"Baines threatened Mr. Smith, sir," she covered quickly. "Said he'd follow him, we don't know why. Part of his madness."

"Very well. You boys, remain on guard, Mr. Snell, the police, Mr. Phillips, with me. We shall investigate." He headed for the door.

"Wait!" Izzy moved to caution. "Sir, with all due respect, it's not safe out there."

"Matron, I believe I can handle it for now," the headmaster pushed past her with self-imbued superiority dripping from his voice.

The two men exited the room. Izzy grabbed Martha by the hand. "We've got to find that watch."

With a quick nod from Martha, the time travelers ran as quickly as their dresses would allow out of the room.

XXXXXXXX

"It's got to be here somewhere," Martha rifled through the papers. "Where could it have gone?"

Izzy rose from her place on the floor searching under furniture. "What can he do, when he comes back? I mean, we've been hiding for a reason, are they seriously that dangerous?"

"Got to be," Martha paused. "But he'll win, just like he always does."

"But what will we have to sacrifice to do it?" She looked at Martha, hard. "There's always a price with winning, you know there is. These boys? I won't let them be the loss in our alien war. Not this year, not if I can help it." Standing up, she let out a frustrated breath. She strode determinedly to the door.

"Where're you going?"

"The watch is here in the school, I know it is. If we can find the watch, we can stop the fight. Those students won't die tonight." She opened the door and shouted behind her as she started down the hall. "You keep looking, I'll search everywhere else!"

XXXXXXXX

Izzy was rummaging through her medical supplies just as Mr. Smith and two other students walked into the main hall.

"You're with Armitage and Swipes, you know the drill," he pointed and the boys hurried off. He stopped at her side, towering over her. "It's not safe here."

"I know it may not look it, but I can take care of myself." She assured firmly, not looking up from her search through the bag. She had hoped that somehow the watch had fallen into her things.

"Isolde, please, I won't see you in danger."

"John, I'm sorry," she whipped up her head, "but I have to find that watch." Students trooped by.

The strength in the man's face dimmed. When the steps passed, is face fell to an expression that bordered desperation.

"How can you think I'm not real?" he leaned. "When I kissed you, was that a lie?"

"No, no" she said rapidly, then pulled her arms to her chest as if to hold herself in. "No, it wasn't a lie. But it wasn't meant to happen." She looked up at him, her eyes begging him to understand.

"We were supposed to hide, acting out our roles until we could be ourselves again. You are a character in this world, like I am in the Doctor's story. You were not supposed to care for me anymore than you did before—I was not supposed to care. I'm not allowed to care—for him or for you! I'm only human," she stopped herself, sounding almost frustrated. Her eyes blinked harshly. "This makes everything so much more complicated."

She looked back to him. He had leaned closer to her, looking down with heartbroken eyes. He looked so entirely human in that moment. "The Doctor has to come back," her voice sounded thin, strangled with a confession she seemed to be half-heartedly fighting. "But I don't want you to go."

His lips were suddenly on hers, cautious at first. Quick as the kiss was, it seemed to linger, desperate and sad but still passionate, as if to persuade her of his reality. After what felt like years, the man pulled away regretfully, giving Izzy a chance to recover.

"Mr. Smith, please!" a student called.

"I have to go," he said, conflicted. He started to step away but she caught his hand.

"Martha was right before. Doctor or not, the John Smith I had the privilege to get to know would not stand for this. These boys do not deserve to fight an enemy they could never understand. They are not alien-killers, they are just boys—this is not their war, not yet. It's wrong, you know it is." She dropped his hand.

"What choice do I have?" He started backing away toward the doorway.

"There's always a choice, the Doctor knew that," she said after his retreating form. When she could hear no footsteps, she ran toward his office, toward Martha.

She had just come to his door when she heard a frustrated shriek from inside the room. Martha burst through the open doorway and upon seeing Izzy, grabbed her arm and lead her back to the way she came.

"It's not there. Have you found anything?"

"I've looked in every plausible place. One of the students must have it." Izzy's voice shook slightly with each rushed step down the stairs.

"Where's the Doctor?" Martha asked when they reached the floor.

"Out to fight, said he had no choice." They ran past an open room. Izzy caught a glimpse of gun smoke through the window pane. "In here," she pulled Martha inside.

Just short of pressing their faces to the glass, they watched the scene outside intently. In little time the scarecrows fell in a heap; the headmaster stepped out over the bodies, then fell back hurriedly. The smallest of the Family came through the open gates, and Mr. Rocastle seemed to be trying to coax her closer.

"No, stop!" Martha gasped. She pulled away from the window, out the room and out into the yard, followed closely by Izzy.

"…Cartwright girl, isn't it?" the headmaster was saying, extending a hand to the little girl. "Come here, come to me."

"Mr. Rocastle!" Martha burst through the main doors. "Please, don't go near her."

"It is not your post to advise me, Miss Jones," he said snidely back to her.

"Just listen to me. She's part of it. Matron, tell him."

"Sir, please, get back. She's not safe!" Izzy urged.

"Mr. Smith," Martha whispered with meaning.

"She was—she was in the village with Baines," the teacher added shakily, holding his long gun stiffly.

"Mr. Smith," Rocastle began sternly, "I've seen many strange things 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." He extended his hand again to the girl. "Come with me."

"You're funny," the girl said is a hollow tone that reminded Izzy of every creepy child in every scary movie she had ever seen. Never listen to the creepy child.

"That's right. Take my hand."

"So funny." The girl reached into her pink coat and pulled out the alien gun. The headmaster's puzzled face ended in a scream as he was disintegrated in a green flash. The girl lowered the weapon with a pleased look on her face. "Now who's gonna shoot me? Any of you, really?"

"Put down your guns," Mr. Smith motioned stiffly.

"But sir, the headmaster…"

"I'll not see this happen, not any more. We will retreat, in an orderly fashion back through the school. Hutchinson, lead the way."

"But sir—" the student started, looking between his professor and the approaching figure of Baines.

"I said lead the way," the man pressed. Baines stepped between the scarecrow bodies with an air of calm—the calm of someone assured of their inevitable success.

"Go on then, run!" Baines said enthusiastically, shooting into the air. "Run!"

Shouts started up around the school, and the boys lost all order in their rush to flee. "Come on," Izzy pushed them through the doors, "come along."

The adults positioned themselves at the corners of the passageway, guiding the students.

"Let's go, quick as you can!" Mr. Smith urged to the stream of young men.

"Don't go to the village," Izzy shouted after them, "it's not safe!"

"And you ladies!" Mr. Smith closed the door to the outside.

"Not till we've got all the boys out." Izzy shook her head stubbornly with Martha.

"Now, I insist," Mr. Smith spun on his heels to race to another door. "I'm telling you, just go. If there're any more boys inside, I'll find them." He opened the door they had shut but closed it immediately after with a panicked expression. Izzy assumed the enemies must be at the door. "I think, retreat!" He locked it and they took off towards the woods.

XXXXXXXXX

"Doctor!" came a loud, taunting call. "Doctor!" The trio leaned from behind cover to glimpse the moonlight reflecting off the blue of the TARDIS, unfortunately guarded by Mr. Clark and a few scarecrows. His companions leaned on either side of him as Mr. Smith knelt to the ground.

"Come back, Doctor. Come home! Come and claim your prize."

"Out you come, Doctor," Baines joined. "There's a good boy. Come to the Family."

"Time to end it now!" Jenny shouted, almost tunefully.

"You recognize it, don't you?" Martha asked quietly, suggesting the TARDIS.

"Come out, Doctor. Come to us!" The aliens continued.

"Never seen it in my life," Mr. Smith said plainly, stiffly.

"Do you remember its name? You wrote about it, John." She put a comforting hand on his shoulder, drawing his full attention. "The blue box? You dreamt about the blue box."

"I'm not—I'm John Smith," he started frantically, "that's all I ever want to be. John Smith," his eyes shone with desperate tears, "with his life, and his job, and his love!" He looked to her with such an expression of hopelessness that Izzy could swear something in her chest broke at the sight of it. She tried to comfort him, for her sake and his. "Why can't I be John Smith? Isn't he a good man?"

"Yes, of course he is," Izzy soothed, absolutely sure of that fact. Martha on his other side said nothing. Izzy knew all she wanted was for John Smith to finally give way to the Doctor. She did not care for the teacher any more than she would a stranger.

"Why can't I stay?" the man's voice was ragged and desperate, the desperation of a man who knew he was fighting a losing battle. He put a hand to his mouth to stop himself, attempting composure.

"But we need the Doctor," Martha broke the quiet. She stared wistfully at the TARDIS.

He turned to her in a sort of shock. "Who am I then? ...Nothing?" The hopelessness crept into his voice again as he stood. "I'm just a story!"

He left, and before taking off after him, Izzy glanced at her friend. And for the first time, Martha seemed to be feeling the gravity of what they had to do.

With an urgent look, Izzy helped Martha up by the arm. "We have to catch up to him. And hurry, I think I know a place where we can hide out."

XXXXXXXXXXX

"There it is," Izzy stopped at the sight of a small house. She, along with everyone else, was a little out of breath from the run there. "I found it the other week. I'm glad I remembered how to get here." She clutched her side.

"But who lives here?" Martha breathed.

Her face grew sad. "If my hunch is right, no one. Not anymore."

They hurried to the door. It creaked open easily, no protests from the owners or the barks of a guard dog. There was tea set out on the table in delicate china. The furnishings otherwise were simple, modest.

"There's no one home. We should be safe here, for a time."

"Who's house is this?" Martha asked, taking in the scene.

"The Cartwright's. I met them on a walk, they invited me for tea here." Izzy sighed. "That girl, the one the Family was possessed, her name was Lucy Cartwright. I thought she might have come home this afternoon, and if her parents tried to stop their daughter, then…" she trailed off. The rest could be implied. She put a hand on the teapot; it was cold as death, and she informed them so.

Mr. Smith's face was a mask of shock and sorrow. He sat down in the chair at the head of the table. She watched him carefully. "I must go to them, before anyone else dies." He said it to Izzy's face, almost like a question.

Izzy moved next to the man to comfort him. "Martha, think of every solution—is there anything we can do?" she implored.

"Not without the watch," Martha said dispassionately.

"You're the Doctor's companions," Mr. Smith attacked, though he seemed to solely address Martha, "can't you help? What exactly do you do for him? Why does he need you?"

"John!" Izzy choked. He kept his angry gaze on Martha, who seemed to be struggling.

"Because he's lonely," she said finally.

"And that's what you want me to become?" he asked with a hint of incredulity. Martha gave him a look as if she thought his accusations were unfair, as if he was not allowed to make it her choice.

There was a sudden knock at the door that drew all attention.

Izzy's blue eyes were blazing in the dim room. "What if it's them?" she asked with tense calm.

Martha had a passive edge to her words, as if she had accepted the uncertainty of the situation. "I'm not an expert, but I don't think scarecrows knock." She stepped to the door cautiously and with a short breath in, turned the knob.

Izzy could not see through the crack Martha had opened, but she could hear a young voice. "I brought you this," the voice said, to Martha's silence.

XXXXXXXXX

"Hold it."

"I won't."

"Please, just hold it," Martha begged gently, her hand cupping the fob watch out to the man.

"It told me to find you; it wants to be held," Latimer said calmly from the shadows.

"If you had the watch all this time," Izzy was standing now, close to Martha, "why didn't you return it to us earlier?"

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

"Why?" Izzy turned fully towards him, her electric eyes searching his. Instead of flinching from the pressure, the boy seemed to be looking into some far off place. He started slow, like forming a story, or recalling a picture to mind.

"Because—I've seen him." He stepped out of the shadows towards Mr. Smith. His words gained momentum. "He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun."

"Stop it," Mr. Smith hissed.

Latimer continued, unfazed. He wasn't truly there, he was off in a place of his own memory, and his voice echoed with it. "He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of Time and can see the turn of the universe."

"Stop it!" Mr. Smith said more strongly. "I said stop it."

"And… he's wonderful," the boy came back to the present and locked eyes with the man. Izzy's chest tightened with a growing ache and a warmth she knew came entirely from thoughts of the Doctor. She could see a happy wistfulness on Martha's face. Slowly, she drew out the journal from her coat pocket.

"Perhaps there's something in here that could help us," she tried.

"Those are just stories," Mr. Smith snapped.

Izzy started towards him with a hard edge to her eyes. "Now you know that's not true."

A thunderous blast interrupted them, accompanied by a flash. "What the hell?" Martha cried as the company rushed to the windows. Another boom followed, caused by a fiery projectile crashing into the area towards town. The twin fires lit up the sky.

"They're destroying the village," Izzy said shakily as more missiles crashed to earth.

"Watch," Mr. Smith whispered, snatching it from Martha and moving away from the group.

"John," Izzy breathed before she could catch herself.

"Can you hear it?" Latimer asked quietly.

"It's asleep," Mr. Smith said with a tone of wonder as he stared at the device, "waiting to waken."

"Why did he speak to me?"

"Oh, low level telepathic fields, you were born with it. Just an extrasynaptic engram causing—" the Doctor's voice stopped with Mr. Smith's deep breath. The signature confidence Izzy had so missed fell into the despair that had recently become so common on the man's face. It only made her heart ache more.

Mr. Smith looked down at his hands in horror. "Is that how he talks?"

"That's him!" Martha said excitedly, her hope revitalized. "All you have to do is open it, and he's back."

Izzy felt a pang of something like animosity towards the woman's eagerness to essentially end a man's life. Another blast shook the ground, closer this time.

Mr. Smith's eyes flashed to the light. "You knew this all along and yet you watched while Nurse Brannen and I—and you," he turned to Izzy, "you let me feel—while all along you knew it too?" Izzy choked on words that would not come.

Martha strode forward imploringly. "I didn't know how to stop you. He gave me a list of things to watch out for but that wasn't included."

"Falling in love? That didn't even occur to him?" Mr. Smith said in shock.

"No," Martha breathed, sharing a look with Izzy.

"That wasn't his way," Izzy finally said in a feeble voice.

"Then what sort of man is that?" Mr. Smith countered thickly. "And now you expect me to die?" A blast shook again, even closer.

"It was always going to end though! The Doctor said the Family's got a limited life span, that's why they need to consume a Time Lord. Three months and then they die; like mayflies, he said."

"So your job was to execute me?" Now he looked betrayed, and Izzy's heart wrenched.

"People are dying out there," she continued. "And they need him, and I need him, 'cause you've got no idea what he's like and I've only just met him and it wasn't even that long ago, but… He is everything. He is just everything to me and he doesn't even look at me but I don't care. Because I love him to bits." Izzy watched her with a portion of surprise, not about Martha's love—the Doctor must be a blind man to be ignorant to Martha's affections and tendency towards jealousy—but toward the confession itself. Martha whispered Izzy's same concerns. "And I hope to God he won't remember me saying this."

The ground shook again. "It's getting closer," Timothy stated.

Mr. Smith gasped and moved to the shadows. "I would have thought of it before," he held up the watch in one hand, "I can give them this! Just the watch, then they can leave and I can stay as I am."

"You can't do that!" Martha started angrily.

"If they want the Doctor they can have him."

"He'll never let you do it," Martha threatened.

"And if they get what they want then-then—"

Izzy looked at him with sad eyes. "Then it all ends in destruction." Mr. Smith looked at her hopelessly. "Not just for the village. If they get the Doctor, then the Family will live forever, to breed and conquer. They would rage a war across the universe, in every world." She looked at the broken man carefully. "For every child."

She looked between the room's other occupants. "Martha, Timothy," she took a deep breath, "could you give us a moment, please?" Martha gave her a cautious look, but slowly walked towards the door with the student at a nod from the dark-haired woman. Mr. Smith let out small sobs with their progress.

As the door closed, Izzy strode towards the tall man and reached to wrap her arms around him as best she could. He collapsed into her with racking sobs. Izzy knew this would be the hardest thing she had ever done.

XXXXXXXXX

"If there was some way…" her voice died off. She knew there was none. All she could do was comfort the doomed man. "But this is the most impossible situation."

"He won't love you," Mr. Smith looked from the watch to her.

"Oh, I would never expect him to—I'm not that important," she assured. "I hadn't ever expected you to, or for me to care so much…" she let out a shaky breath.

"You are important to me." He said at a whisper.

"Oh, John," she said with a sad smile, "that only makes things intolerably harder."

"But it was real wasn't it? I really felt—" she put a hand on his, the one holding the watch.

Suddenly she could see images, John in a crisp suit, her in a white dress, wedding bells clanging. John smiling as she passed him their first child, a baby girl with a tuft of dark hair. Three children, young but growing, skipping in the leaves of an English autumn, John and Izzy trailing with the happiest of smiles. She still looked so young, why did she look so young? Children grown, an older John and Izzy, she looked like only a year had passed, not a lifetime. Why was she still so young?

Izzy blinked hard in confusion. Beside her Mr. Smith gasped in shock. He looked at her desperately. "Did you see that? Our children, us married and old and happy?"

She wondered if he had somehow seen something different. Maybe she just couldn't imagine herself older; she had a hard time enough imagining herself without the Doctor, even if the vision told her she'd stayed.

"A Time Lord could never have a life like that; he could never stay with me," she said with a calm sadness. "Those were just stories, a bunch of happy endings that could have been." He breathed heavily and stared hatefully at the watch.

"What're you going to do?" she asked gently. He took a deep breath in and made to push the button. "Wait," she stopped him. Placing her hands on either side of his face, she leaned him close and whispered. Her eyes were the brightest blue, then: "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

With a simple goodbye kiss, the brave man pressed down on the silver button.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Is it done?" Izzy met him at the foot of the high grassy hill.

"It's done." They stood there for a moment, in a heavy sort of quiet.

"I saw the army and the police at the school, and a rather large mob of mothers to take their boys back home. There's something terrifying about so many mothers in one place," she tried for a smile. He gave her a faint on in return. "I almost feel bad, not staying to explain, not that I would really know how. I've horribly neglected my matronly duties." Her weak attempt at humor was just that, weak. He just continued to watch her face carefully, as if he expected her to break at any moment. Finally her smile fell and she gave up. Instead she watched him curiously.

"Where is he, then?"

The Doctor sighed and started slowly up the hill. Folding her arms, Izzy followed. "He's in here somewhere."

"Like a story inside your head?" She glanced at him, then looked at her moving feet. "He was brave you know, in the end. I don't think Martha quite appreciated how brave. You chose to change," this time she set her cerulean gaze on him, "he chose to die."

"Do you miss him?"

"A bit, yeah. We had fun, for a little while." Her volume dropped. "He was kind, and funny, in a bumbling sort of way. And a brilliant artist, to boot," her smile was faint, but genuine. "What more could a girl ask for in a man?" she joked.

"You know, everything that John Smith is and was, I'm capable of that, too," the Doctor ventured in a low voice, a voice that could mean anything. But her heart was sore and had no room to support such hope.

She looked at him, hard. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as they approached the TARDIS and Martha at the top of the hill. "Not everything, Doctor."

She looked down again, missing his look of mild surprise. The moment passed, he looked up to Martha. "Right then! Molto bene!"

Izzy stopped next to Martha, leaning against the TARDIS. Martha turned to the girl with a caring look. "Are you alright?" she asked quietly.

Izzy was surprised, but Martha did seem happier since the Doctor changed back. And a happy Martha meant a nice Martha. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said with a shrug, though she knew playing the whole ordeal off casually was unhealthy, she still felt no desire to talk about it. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Martha narrowed her eyes at her disbelievingly before facing the Doctor. "Meant to say, back there, last night, I would've said anything to get you to change," she said animatedly to prove her point.

"Oh, yeah, of course you would, yeah."

"I mean, I wasn't really…"

"No, no, no," the Doctor agreed.

"Good."

"Fine."

"So there we are then."

"There we are then."

They were briefly distracted by a snort from Izzy. She's tried to hide a laugh behind her hand at the awkwardness of their dialogue, but was failing. She quieted at their confused expressions. "Sorry, I was thinking about kittens."

The Doctor gave her a wide smile. Martha still looked confused. "Oh," he looked between both of them, "and I never said: thanks for looking after me." He took the final step and wrapped Martha in a bear hug, then Izzy.

"Doctor! Martha!" a voice startled them into separating. "Izzy," Timothy Latimer approached them.

"Tim, Timothy, Tim-ah," the Doctor cheered in response.

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

"You don't have to fight," Martha offered.

"I think we do."

"But you could get hurt," Izzy pressed. You could get killed.

"Well, so could you two, traveling around with him. That wouldn't stop you." Izzy and Martha shared a smirk of agreement.

"Tim," the Doctor held out his hand to the boy. In it was the empty watch. "I'd be honored if you'd take this." So the boy did.

"I can't hear anything,' he looked almost disappointed.

"No," the Doctor shook his head, "it's just a watch now. But keep it with you, for good luck."

The Doctor started towards the TARDIS, but Izzy hugged the boy. Even on the slope he was taller than her. "Thanks for bringing him back to us," she whispered in his ear with a genuine smile. She gave him a peck on the cheek. Martha followed with her own take-care message. She kissed him on the other cheek, and Izzy could have sworn the boy blushed pink.

The Doctor held the door open for his companions, but before he followed them himself, Izzy could hear him say one last thing to Timothy.

"You'll love this bit."

Then next time she would see Timothy Latimer, he would be an aged and weary man in a wheelchair, clutching the ticking silver gift in his gloves. She smiled a sad smile to the veteran and positioned her pin as she watched a tear roll down his cheek.

XXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: And done. Thank you for your patience, you wonderful people. And if you were impatient? Well, you're still wonderful, because I fully deserve your impatience as well.

Au revoir, Ellie