Summary: This story takes place a few years after Martha has left the Doctor and UNIT. For her, the new beginning was in America and leaving everything behind, especially the Doctor. She wanted normality and to return to basics, which meant to practice medicine again. However, her normality doesn't last long, when she meets Sam Winchester on a stormy night. Everything she knew about aliens, what the Doctor taught her and his lessons, will not be enough to face what comes ahead.

Additional Characters: Cap. Jack Harkness, Garth, Kevin, Torchwood crew and many others. Some characters I might create, other I might bring back from either show.

disclaimer: This is my first Sartha fiction, but it's a few years old. It takes place around season 7 or 8, as Kevin is still alive. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it. Also, I'm looking at it with new eyes, so I may add some more information just for fun

Hope you guys like this one. Looking forward to reading your awesome comments.

STORY TIME! :D

The night is going long for Martha Jones. Her shift had started hours ago and it's one of those nights. Outside it rains heavily, being that is the only noise she hears. The soft "pat pat" of the rain on the window, alongside the muffled sound of what is happening behind the closed door, gave her a sense of peace. It was one of those nights. A night where every single person is either sick has had some kind of an accident, drank something they shouldn't have to drink. One of those, you know? Martha is in the lounge room in the Hospital. Her feet are on the table, hands crossed over her stomach and eyes closed enjoying the final minutes of her break. Her beeper is next to her on the couch, just in case. It's a quiet, peaceful moment. A rare one in the life of a doctor in the emergency room.

Suddenly, her beeper comes to life. Martha opens her eyes, giving a moment for her body to understand that it was time to move again. The beeper goes off again. Martha remains seated, taking a deep breath.

Her old life, her old job and her old self were all left behind seven years ago. After all, the Doctor was gone, her relationship with Mickey was over and her job at UNIT had become way too complicated for her to handle. At this time, a dramatic change was in need and that was America, the land of opportunity. The word she was looking for: Normality.

Therefore the town of Mercy seemed just the place to start. It was a city big enough to pass as the state capital, but with the beauty of the country. It was perfect for Martha's need for quiet and comfort. Everything was going fine for the past seven years. Martha has a nice house, made some friends and acquaintances, kept a normal (ish) love life, professionally she's been growing steadily and had a dog named Bruce.

"Paging Dr Jones. Paging Jones."

This is the wake-up call she needs. Martha practically jumps off her couch and out the lounge room. As she walks down the wall, on her way to the emergency room, she is met with the familiar noise of the emergency room boiling close to the brim. Nurses running from one side to the other, doctors yelling, interns trying their best to keep it together. However, tonight the level of screaming and overall ruckus is higher than usual.

"I'm here," Martha says as she reaches the front desk. The nurse, an older woman with little or no patience and a high dose of sass, tosses her a medical chart.

"Follow the screams. You're in for a big one."

"Where are the paramedics?"

"Right there." The nurses point behind Martha. Two paramedics were getting medical assistance. One had a broken nose and what it seemed to be a dislocated shoulder. The other one was holding an ice bag to his face, but Martha could see a huge purple mass on his cheek.

Martha turns around and runs towards the trauma nº 7. It didn't take long for her to locate the screams. As Martha approaches the emergency room the noise becomes louder. A young intern stands outside the room, looking in with an amazed look.

"What is it?" Martha asks, stopping next to the young intern, however, the young woman says nothing and just stares. In a split second, a piece of metal comes flying out of the room. Martha is fast enough to duck, but the young intern is hit in the head with it going down. Martha helps the young intern to her feet and calls a nurse to look after her.

There were exactly eight people in that room, including doctors, nurses and two security guards. All of them were trying to pin down one man, while he kept shaking them off like leaves on a tree. The man screams his lungs out, spitting blood all over the place. He has a deep cut just above his brow from where he bleeds massively. Martha spots several cuts on his body, but what is more curious is the gigantic bit mark right on his forearm. Quickly, Martha counts two gunshot wounds; one on his right leg and the other on his lower abdomen. Any other human being would be almost catatonic, but not this man.

"SOMEBODY GRAB A FREAKING SEDATIVE!" Another doctor yells while holding his left leg.

Martha wakes up from the state of surprise, quickly running towards the shelve to prepare another sedative. Martha holds it in her hand, comes close to inject it in the leg of the wild mind, but the commotion is so great that she drops the needle and it rolls away from her. At the same time, one of the security guards made the mistake to loosen the grip on the man's right arm for a split second. It was enough time for the young man's arm to go loose and punch the other security holding his left arm.

Martha looks up just in time to see the man sit on the stretcher and look her straight in the eye. He was wild, a loose cannon, a bloodied animal trying to fight for his life without a sheer part of rational consciousness. It was just a few seconds, but enough to send a chill down her spine and make her heart beat fast. Just as quickly, the medics were fast to pin him down one more time. The man let out a gut-wrenching scream, leaving the veins on his neck pulsing and the rest of his face as red as the blood covering it.

Martha isn't scared – after her time with the Doctor and UNIT there were only a handful of things that actually scare her. This man was not on the list. Martha is simply surprised.

One of the nurses looks at her and yells

"GRAB IT!"

The needle! Yes, of course. It had rolled away from her eyes. Martha falls on her hands and knees, crawling to it. Martha gets it, but the tip is broken.

"Damn." Martha gets up on her feet. "TWO SECONDS"

Dr Jones, runs out of the room, passing by all the people who were curiously watching. She goes into the empty room next door, gets a fresh needle and a small bottle with a sedative, before running back. Martha enters the room again finding that security guards were back at their initial position, one of them was bleeding from his mouth. Without waiting for further instructions, Martha comes close to the patient and, without any care, slams the needle right into his right thigh. The man feels the prick of the needle and looks at Martha directly.

"I'm burning." He says. "I'm burning inside."

Suddenly, he coughs blood and his head falls heavily on the stretcher. He was out. There's no time for relief, the doctor present quickly yells for a surgeon and Martha begins to do her work. Seconds later, the man is being rolled out of the room, on his way to the surgery room. The silence that falls after his departure, is heavy and Martha realises that her ears are ringing from the noise and her heart is still racing.

"Good gracious! That man was a beast." One of the security guards points out. "Look at what he did..."

The room looks similar to a place where a hurricane had gone through. The medical equipment is completely destroyed, the door is out of its inches and the tools are scattered on the floor. Metal was bent, glass was broken, papers all over. It was a battlefield.

Curious as she was, Martha walks back to the two paramedics that were getting medical assistance. The one with the broken nose was gone now, the other remains by the front door with a face full of ice.

"Hi, John." Martha greets, sitting next to him.

"Hi yourself, Doc." John greets her. He winces slightly holding the ice closer to his face. "What a night..."

"Indeed."

"How are you feeling?

"Like I was punched in the face by a guy suffering from severe withdraw."

"He's not a drug addict. Didn't see any markings on him." The paramedic shrugs. "Can you fill me in on the guy?"

John sighs heavily, taking the bag of ice away from his face. "Around 01h30 we got a call from a woman downtown who saw a man fall from a building."

"What?"

"Yeah," John says, with a cocky smile on his face. "We get there, hoping to find a mess of a situation, as it always in these cases. But no..."

"What did you find?"

"This dude was just lying on the curb, you know? Witnesses said they saw him jump off the fourth floor and fell on top of a car." The paramedic tells. "They saw he took five steps and collapsed. That's where we found him. He was completely out of it. Two gunshot wounds – leg and lower abdomen – small cuts and injuries on his back and arms."

"He had a nasty bite on his arm too."
"Yeah, we saw that too."
"You said he fell? From the fourth floor?"

"Onto a car, yes." The paramedic winces again and leans against his chair. "Then, as we were putting him in the ambulance he just wakes up. Elbows me, punches Anthony right on the nose and goes wild. I don't know how we got him onto the ambulance, but he was screaming and fighting the entire way."

"Was there anyone with him?"

"No. He was alone." John answers. "Another thing, he was burning hot when he got there. Like...hot, you know?"

"A fever, perhaps?"

"That would explain the fit."

"It would."

"You know what we call him?" John asks, with a smile growing on his face, despite the pain.

"What?"

"Thor."

Martha lets out a smile. "He's not blonde. Nor Nordic, John."

"Well, he is a very tall man." John closes his eyes for a few seconds "And with a fist like that, he can very well be."

One of the nurses, that was in the prep room, came to Martha"Dr Jones, room 3 is ready."

Martha leaves John and his iced face to enter her second surgery of the night.

As she scrubs her fingers, hands, arms and elbows fiercely, Martha can see her patient through the window, surrounded by nurses and assistants. Above the entrance door, there were a few chairs behind a glass where colleagues and students usually sat to watch other operations. Right now, that room was at full capacity. Martha could recognize the hospital director, members of the board, some students, other doctors and even the same nurses that had helped back in the prep room.

"Do we really need an audience?" Martha asks the nurse, as sheen she walks in the operation room.

The nurse, who carries her scrub, answers behind her medical mask. "He made an impression."

Martha's choice to become a surgeon happened almost instantly. At the time she wanted to do a lot more for people, than just the simple medical stuff. She wanted to change lives, to have an impact for good and for bad. One thing UNIT and the Doctor had left in her was her constant need to help others. So, the moment she came to America, being a surgeon was at the top of her list. She studied, worked and in the end, managed to get it. And Martha was amazing at it.

"What's the status?"

"He's stable. We're good to go."

"Good."

The operation went at a calm speed. Martha had closed most of the cuts on his arms, torso and legs and removed the bullet on his shoulder. Martha looks at the bite on the man's arm with curiosity.

"Does that look like an animal bite to you?"

The nurse looks at the forearm with a frown.

"That's a human bite." The nurse responds with certainty.

"That's what I thought." Martha looks at the man's forearm with curious attention but did not spend that much time on it, as there were other urgent wounds that needed attention. Martha was now preparing to take out the second bullet in his lower abdomen. That's when she notices something. A purple bruise was covering half his stomach.

"Is everything alright?" The nurse asks. Martha touches his abdomen, feeling it around. As if to make things worse, the young man started to crash. His heart was giving up.

"Damn!" Martha says, dropping everything. "He's bleeding internally. We're losing him."

The Impala parks in front of Mercy's General Hospital. This is Dean's last hope to find Sam. He is worried, blind with concern and anger. That virus! That damn demon virus! Dean opens the door to the Impala and tries to get out, but winces in pain. He knew he had one or two broken ribs. He looks at this face in the review mirror and nearly startles himself. Sam had given him a black eye and busted his lip open. Around his neck were the red marks of his brother's hands, when Sam tried to choke him to death. His hands are red, his knuckles bruised and bloody from punching Sam back after getting hit a couple of times. Who knew Sam could hit so hard?

Gently he gets out of the car, breathing through the pain and walks, as fast as he can, towards the hospital doors. Dean doesn't care, but people stare at him as he goes by trying to understand what they're seeing. He's been searching for Sam for the past three hours, from every police station to emergency rooms, to even the morgue. Nothing. No sign. It took a while for Dean to remember the name written on the ambulance. He blind by worry and angry at himself, his brother and that demon. Of course, clear and obvious solutions would take some time to see.

He passes through the sidling doors, ignoring the cleaning staff cleaning the young man's trace, going straight to the older nurse that was going through some files.

"Excuse me," He says approaching the woman behind the desk. "I'm looking for my brother."

The nurse looks at Dean with a startled look and asks "Sir, are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look so well." She answers back. "Do you need medical assistance?"

"I said, I'm fine. Just looking for my brother."

The woman looks at him with a concerned look, before asking:

"What's his name?"

Dean has to think fast for this one. They never use their real names in public institutions. Mainly because 1) they were dead and 2) they were flying low. Both sides of the barricade want them, it's only a matter of who would catch them first: Angels or Demons. So, the lower they fly, the safer would be.

"Erm...He was brought here about three hours ago. Tall dude, weird brown hair, green puppy eyes, strong as a..."

"You mean Thor?"

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry. About 3 hours ago a man, with that description came in with several injuries. He made quite a mess" The nurse points to the cleaning staff walking behind them.

"That's my Sammy," Dean mutters to himself. He turns to the nurse asking "Is he okay?"

"He's still in surgery, that's the only information we have so far." Dean let out a worried sigh. "Don't worry, Dr Jones has him."

The nurse continues to look at Dean

"Were you two fighting? Did he do that to your face?"

"Brotherly love?" Dean shrugs, but the woman seems more and more suspicious "Listen when they found my brother... was anyone with him? Was he alone?"

"Well, you would have to ask the paramedics, but I'm guessing he was alone. I mean, there were witnesses..."

"No, I'm asking if there was a woman there, next to him: blonde, blue-eyed... a bit of a bitch..."

"I don't have that information, sir. The right people to ask are the paramedics if they're still around because your brother beat them up pretty good." The woman answers. "The police are on their way anyway."

"Why?"

"Your brother fell from a building and had gunshot wounds on him. Cases these severe we have to inform the authorities."

"Yeah..." Dean lets out. That would be a problem for another time. "But, I want to know if he was alone..."

The woman looks uncomfortable but tries to answer anyway.

"You would have to ask..."

"The paramedics. Yeah, got it. Thanks."

Dean was about to turn around and find himself a seat when the nurse calls him again.

"Sir..." The nurse was holding a form and a pen on her hand. "We need for you to fill in these."

The woman handed Dean a chart with six hospital sheets to fill.

"Really?"

"It's hospital policy, sir."

Dean looks at the form, ignoring the sudden to throw it across the waiting room. "Of course it is." He says to himself, walking away from the desk.

Almost limping he finds himself a seat next to an old lady who seems to be asleep. Quietly he grabs his phone and rings Garth. Quickly, his friend answers

"Hey. It's me. I found him. He's in surgery. Is Kevin alright? Good. No, no you did the right thing. He's fine now. He's under so, luckily, when he wakes up the virus will be out of his system. No, they didn't find the blonde, my guess is she ran. Put the word out on the streets, maybe others will bump into her. And...for the love of all, take your goddamn shots and make Kevin take them. I don't need two of you jumping off buildings. Yeah. Okay. Call you later."

Dean sits down with the form in his hand remembering how they got here. The case appeared to be simple at first, but it hid a much more complex plan. A virus. Some kind of demon virus that got to people and made it seem as if they were possessed without really being. A sick joke that demons liked to play every now and then. Why? Because it was fun and it was equally amusing to see hunters running around not knowing what to do with people who act as if they were possessed, but weren't. The virus made the people go crazy, some killed others, others ended up killing themselves and hurting an infinite number along with the way. It didn't last long in the system. Hours later the virus was gone, undetected and person, if alive, would have to deal with the consequences of their actions which they did not remember fully.

The source was this blonde woman who had gone missing years prior. She was the carrier and she was the one they needed to kill. They tracked her, eventually cornered her, but she bit Sam and he got the virus. The problem had quickly transformed into something else.

To add to that, another demon, probably working with the blonde one, had been following them for weeks trying to find out where Kevin was. This demon was patient and, most of all, very creative. While Sam and Dean were busy with this demon virus, bringing Kevin and Garth along to their searches, as a way to keep the young prophet close, the demon took the opportunity and kidnapped Kevin. It took two days to find out where he was, with the final clue leading them to the building Sam fell from.

The demon that took Kevin waited for them. It was too easy. Way too easy, but they went in any way. Killed that son of a bitch that took the prophet, but on their way out the blonde demon appeared out of nowhere and bit Sam right in his arm until he bled. Then, she vanished and Sam was infected. What followed was a brutal fight between the brothers with Sam overpowering his brother both in strength and weight. Seeing that Dean was losing, Garth took two shots against Sam and that's when he fell from the window.

Time passes slowly and Dean's patience was wearing thin. An hour. Maybe two? The only thing he knows he has no way of sitting without feeling pain, which little or nothing, helps to his patience and calm. He's about to stand for the hundredth time to take a walk when he hears something. It was a woman's voice.

"Dr Jones!" The nurse called "Thor's brother is here."

Dean turns his head to the front desk and sees Dr Jones, looking right at him. Now, he had to admit that he thought Dr Jones was a man. However, he is now partially pleased to see the beautiful woman. She isn't very tall, only a few inches shorter than Dean. The hospital coat does not favour her figure, but Dean can see that she has a perfect shape.

With difficulty, Dean stands and greets the doctor with a firm handshake. Martha takes it, but it's scrutinizing his face.

"I'm guessing you had a rough night as well."

British. Dean thinks while shaking her hand.

"I did, yes."

"I think it's best we check you up?"

"I just need to see my brother."

"I have to insist." The Dr came closer and pointed a flashlight at Dean's left eye. "You have blood inside your eye if it swells more - which it will - it will be impossible to be taken care of. Besides, it can be a sign of trauma. Did you hit your head?"

Dean avoids the flashlight, blinking away the sudden blindness and just looks at the Dr.

"Look, I'm fine. It's my brother I'm worried about."

"I operated your brother and, contrary to you, he's on his way to recovery." Dr Jones put her flashlight away. "Why are you holding your stomach?"

Without knowing, Dean had his arm wrapped around his stomach. Sam had kicked him several times around that area with his big ass foot. Of course, it hurt.

"Look I don't need attention, okay? My brother does. I want to see him."

"You can't."

"Why?"

"Because he just left the operating table. He's under. You won't get anything from him." The Dr answers. "Besides, you're bruised, as is he...I'm pretty sure you two were fighting. Very violently too."

"Don't talk about things you don't know." Dean answers in a dry tone. "I'm going to see him."

"You're not," Martha answers again. "Unless you want the police to come in and make you understand."

"Call the police all you want, lady..."

"Doctor." Martha interrupts, "Do notice the coat and the place you're in."

"I'm gonna walk every hall, knock on every damn door until I find my brother. Call the police. I don't give a shit."

Dean takes a deep breath and walks past Martha, ignoring her completely. Martha walks right behind him, when they were close enough to the elevators, away from prying ears, Martha gave out and said:

"Fine." Dean stops and turns to look at Martha. "He had two cardiac arrests, as we were trying to stop the internal bleeding, but we managed to control that just in time. Luckily, the cut on his head, though deep, it wasn't too much trouble. The bullets were removed successfully, without too much damage to the tissue or muscles. The fever is gone, as well. Overall, it was a success. Your brother is a champion."

Dean looks at her with a clear look of relieving in his face.

"That's good. That's very good."

Martha takes a step closer to Dean, bringing the tone of her voice down a bit.

"From what I heard, he fell out of a building on top a car, which explains the cuts and bruises, but doesn't explain the bullets we pulled out of him." She says "We called the police like we always do in these cases. They will come with questions and you, looking like that, will only raise suspicion."

"I'll deal with it," Dean answers, looking at the Dr, trying to understand what is up with her. From the way she's standing and talking, it reminds him of the way his dad used to stand. It was a typical military way of standing. Back straight, chin up and look straight into the eyes of the enemy. "Can I see him?" Dean asks, gently grabbing his stomach, feeling the cost of standing up for so long.

"Please, let me fix whatever is wrong with you, Mr...?"

Dean, once again, has to think quickly and comes up with a name.

"Heart. Aaron Heart"

"Your name is Aaron Heart?" The doctor asks in disbelief.

Dean looks at her with an offended look. Who is this doctor and why did Dean feel so uneasy next to her?

"What? No 'Hearts' in old Britain?" Dean's impatience, mixed the pain coming from his broken ribs, made him very uncomfortable and that reflected in his tone with the Dr "Look, Miss Jones..."

"Dr Jones. I do have a degree, Mr Heart"

"I just want to see my brother. "

"Room 301. Third floor, first room to the left... It's easy to spot, it's the one guarded by security."

Dean gives her the deadly look, with any sympathy. He drops the chart on the chair next to him and walks towards the elevator. Martha watches him closely, noticing that he was limping as he walks.

Martha picks up the chart, ready to read any possible information about Mr Heart's brother, or "Thor" as he is now being called. What she finds is not information. Instead, Mr Heart had spent the past hour doodling his way on medical paperwork. Weird drawings of dead trees, bullets, sad faces, a car, a gun and some other things were in all three sheets.

"Bloody hell." She mutters to herself.

However, on the last page, on the left down corner, there's a drawing that gets Martha's attention, to a point she has to take a seat next to the old sleeping lady. It was a symbol. But it wasn't like any of the other symbols Mr Heart had drawn on the previous, or any other symbol Martha had ever seen. This is something different. This is something that Mr Heart had spent a lot of ink on his pen. This is something Martha knows very well and did not expect to be haunted by it again.

This symbol Martha knew and she knew it very, very well. After all, this symbol was her last mission on UNIT. This was her unsolved case and now...it was back to haunt her. The question was: What was the connection between Mr Heart, possibly, his brother and the symbol of the Ghost City?