It's Just a Scratch
by
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx

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Thanks Cute Gallifreyan, Laby Anne Boleyn, Lazybones, The Noble Platypus, AvitarGirl, Tai Greywing, AscendingWithTyler, Freakk66, Syreene, stardog252, Vcarp93, JForward, Emela, forestwife, Spockette Gamine Madcap, Dodie and Lady Eivel!

Here we are then, final chapter. It was initially supposed to be two, but I decided to combine them. Saves time.

I'd like to thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! This story was fun to write, to say the least, but your support made it that li'l bit more fantabulous!
Cyber-cookies for everyone! And enjoy the final chapter!

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12.

Pain.

Excruciating, agonising, unbearable pain.

Changing once had been bad enough – at least that time it had been a gradual transformation, one step at a time.

But this …

He could feel it, running through his veins like poison. Dragged back to the surface of his mind as the vampire fell back, hissing and raging in agony, he found himself vaguely musing on how unfair this all was.

It was because of the vampire that they were in this mess, and yet it wanted him to take the full hit? Though he couldn't deny it felt glorious to be inside his own head, once again.

And at least the hunger had diminished slightly.

The pain replaced it but he was sure he could handle that.

Well, that was until it peaked, sending him crashing to his knees, one hand clutching at his head while the other hovered in front of his mouth dabbing desperately at the two retracting fangs as they painstakingly slowly sank back into their original shape.

Tremors racking his sweat-drenched body, he jammed his eyes tight shut and raised his head, neck stretched back as the agony silently consumed him. His wings flexed outwards before shrinking again into his back, flesh and bone rejoining before they vanished completely, leaving behind smooth but devastatingly raw skin in their place.

He clenched his fists, feeling the claws digging into his palms before slowly disappearing, withdrawing back into his fingers and dissolving into nothing.

As one, the Doctor and the Vampire screamed, their voices locked into one reverberating, piercing cry that echoed around the entire ship.

And then silence fell.

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The first thing she noticed was the warmth. It embraced her, wrapping itself around her senses and soothing her completely. She smiled slightly, sinking into the comfort it offered with delight.

She was dozing, she knew that much. Shifting between awareness and unconsciousness continuously, not quite sure where she wanted to be, at the moment.

Here was good.

In fact, no ... wherever 'here' was, it was wonderful. Warm and cosy and comfortable, with a melodic, tingling hum gliding delightfully around her head during the moments when she'd managed to claw her way to the surface before drifting off again.

A hum she recognised … the TARDIS.

Slowly sliding her eyes open, she blinked them carefully into focus, mind hazy and memories scattered as she struggled to focus on the large circular column standing proudly in front of her. The lights were dim, but the familiar green glow emanating from it was reassuring.

At least she knew where she was now.

Shifting her head up slightly, she turned to study herself, propping her elbows up on the sofa's arm rest and instantly feeling the warmth vanish as the Doctor's trench coat slid from her arms. Staring at it in surprise, she frowned then tilted her head, gaze flicking to the man standing on the other side of the console.

"Evening."

There was a soft chink of metal on metal as something was placed down onto it. Smile slipping, she struggled upright and considered the Doctor warily, her memory snapping back with brute force and sending her senses into red alert.

"D-Doctor?" she murmured, tensing in her chair as her wide eyes burnt straight into his, half-expecting to see the vampire glaring back at her, scarlet orbs wild with hunger and bloodlust.

But they were brown, not red.

The eyes through which he was gazing at her in concern were brown. Beautifully, compassionately brown, just like she'd remembered them. His eyes.

They were really his …

The Doctor nodded carefully, watching in mute silence as she ascertained his sincerity.

And then her face split into a broad smile and her head fell back against the chair, a hand flying to her head. Light-headed with giddy relief, she ran a disbelieving hand over her eyes and straightened up again, sorely tempted to run at him and pull him into a bone crushing hug, but at the same time aware she probably wouldn't even make it to his side.

Smiling tiredly, he wandered around the console to stand in front of her, leaning against it with a foot propped up against the base, arms folded as he considered her carefully.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently.

She giggled softly and nodded, blinking her eyes open again to study him properly.

"Yeah, fine … I'm just … relieved," she said honestly, realising for the first time just how hoarse her voice sounded. He nodded in understanding, suddenly uncomfortable as she scrutinised him dubiously. "Why'd you ask?"

Martha frowned as he cleared his throat before moving across to her side, gently nudging her feet out of the way so he could sit down. She obliged, frowning a little.

"Well, you've been sleeping for just short of three days. I was beginning to worry."

She scowled at that.

"It's taken you three days to start to worry?" she asked huffily, glaring at him. He shook his head quickly, a tentative half-smile on his face. It didn't linger, though. She rolled her eyes at his sudden disinclination to speak and sighed. "Well, at least that explains my voice," she murmured, more to herself than to him. If she hadn't used it for three days, it was hardly surprising she could hardly recognise it herself.

He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged. "Never mind," she said, taking his sudden silence as an opportunity to give him the once over.

He'd washed and changed, that much was obvious. And for all intents and purposes, he looked to be relatively back to normal. But his skin was still incredibly pale and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes as he turned to look at her.

"Are you okay?" she countered, the fogginess having all but lifted from her mind now, leaving it shockingly clear for the first time in days.

He paused, then nodded.

"I think so," he said, frowning slightly. "I'm 'me' again, don't worry," he added as he spotted her raised eyebrow. "Probably just tired."

She nodded carefully. Turning away, she glanced anxiously around the room, then frowned.

"Wait a minute, I haven't been in here for three days, have I?" she asked nervously, marvelling at the fact that she could still move after waking up in such an awkward position. To her mild surprise, however, the Doctor blushed a little and shook his head.

"Erm, no. You were in the medbay for most of it. So was I, come to think of it," he added vaguely before continuing. "Anyway, it's just when it came to day three, I wanted you a little ... closer ... just so I could keep an eye on you, you know." He smiled anxiously, then fell silent. Martha nodded, a small balloon of joyous delight expanding within her chest. He'd missed her ...

"What do you mean, so were you? Did something go wrong?"

The Doctor shook his head.

"No, no, nothing like that. It just took a while to sort myself out. I changed back alright, minus the excrutiating agony, but it took a lot out of me."

Martha made the customary 'O' shape with her mouth and bit her lip.

"So ... so where is he? The vampire, I mean. Is it dead? Did the antidote get rid of him completely?"

He paused, thinking.

"Well," he started quietly, "not completely gone. I don't think it'll ever be completely gone. But then it can't come back, either."

"Can you hear it?" Martha asked with interest.

He frowned.

"Not hear exactly. It's just a feeling. It's buried away somewhere, well and truly out of reach but not enough for me to forget about it. Confusing, huh?" he added, seeing Martha's raised eyebrows. She nodded mutely, then smiled in relief.

"Well it's gone, Doctor. That's good enough for me," she said, relieved, scratching absently at the back of her head. Unable to handle the silence that fell then, she searched her mind for something else to say."So what happened, then?" she asked softly, but then her eyes widened and she paled alarmingly, eyes glazing over as she fell still. "Oh God," she murmured, running an anxious hand over her neck as she suddenly recalled her last few moments. "You didn't …?"

The Doctor shook his head quickly.

"It never … you know, happened. I didn't … get that far." He looked incredibly sheepish, rather like a deer caught in the headlights as he glanced nervously at her neck. He raised a tentative hand towards it, lowering hers slightly before brushing the skin with his own fingers. "There's a bruise, though. It should go down in a few days. But no, I … he … we … didn't break the skin. You're fine."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and a smug smile began to tug at the corners of her lips as he pulled his hand away. She pressed gingerly where his fingers had been moments before, then turned to him, smiling innocently.

"A bruise, huh?" she asked casually. He blushed and nodded quickly, avoiding her gaze.

"It might um … look like something else but it honestly isn't what you're thinking it might be," he defended nervously, running a hand through his hair.

"Okay." She grinned and nudged him conspiratorially in the ribs, eyes twinkling mischievously. But with a heavy sigh, she let her face fall as she closed her eyes and rubbed anxiously at the bandage secured around her palm.

"I take it you did this," she went on carefully, opening her eyes again as she rather abruptly realised she hadn't had one on before. He nodded sadly, biting on his lip before turning away, the guilt growing.

"I'm sorry about that," he said quietly.

Martha suppressed a shudder and nodded, her mind wandering.

"I cut it. It was my own fault," she replied vaguely. But the Doctor shook his head.

"You know what I mean, Martha," he said darkly. "And I'm sorry for letting it come to that."

Martha smiled again, turning to him and reaching for his hand in comfort.

"It wasn't your fault, and I don't blame you," she said firmly. "People do strange things when they're deprived. It wasn't exactly you who did it, anyway. The vampire did. And besides, no harm was done," she added as an afterthought, grin brightening.

He hesitated, uncertain, then nodded slowly.

Sensing his melancholy mood, Martha tried to find another change of subject. She glanced at the door, then turned back to him, eyebrows raised.

"Where are we?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Same place," he said simply.

"What? How come?" she asked, surprised. "Is there something wrong?"

He grinned and shook his head.

"Nope," he said brightly, his mood picking up. "But with you off in dreamland and me still recovering, it seemed kind of pointless going somewhere else, and if we spend too long drifting in deep space, we'll soon run out of gas, as it were. So I thought it best to leave it, at least until you came around."

His grin widened, and he studied the door himself.

"And um … It's been a fascinating day of discovery for me, too," he added cryptically.

She scowled.

"Nice to know you've missed me," she muttered darkly, before asking, "and what have you been 'discovering', exactly?"

He said nothing, but instead jumped to his feet and twiddled the scanner around towards them. Frowning, Martha straightened up again and gingerly tested her footing. Swaying a little, she wrapped his coat a little tighter around her small frame and rested a hand against the chair for support before shuffling closer.

"Our little friend, here, has a lot of patience," he said at last, and Martha's eyes widened as she stared at the screen.

She smiled.

"How long has it been there?" she asked, remembering their last encounter with the strange creature.

He grinned.

"It hasn't moved a muscle since I turned the screen on yesterday. Not even the faintest flicker of a whisker. In fact I'm willing to bet it's been sat in that exact same position since the whole 'hunting' kafuffle the other day."

Martha shook her head in disbelief.

Looking at it now, she couldn't quite understand how she'd found it so terrifying before. With its foxish little face and long, mouse-like whiskers, its sunlight bright eyes fixed unwaveringly upon the doorway as it sat back on its haunches, clawed paws curled into the springy ground, it seemed quite harmless, and positively adorable.

She knew better, of course, and while she wasn't particularly afraid of the creature now, it had certainly been a great cause for concern a few days prior. Looks certainly could be deceiving.

"So what is it, then?" she asked, interested.

The Doctor inhaled sharply and blew the breath out through his teeth, a contemplative look on his face as he stared at the scanner.

"Well, it's impossible for a start. That's what I meant when I said it was fascinating. This creature is the last surviving member of its species, and in all honesty, it should be galaxies away from here. Perhaps that's why it survived when the Kiangan race fell. Judging by the fact that Minuisa is otherwise completely uninhabited, I'm willing to bet it was sent here to Guard the planet, protect it from intruders or pirates or hunters. It used to be their food stock, see. For millennia, the Kiangans grew their own crops, turning to herbs and vegetables to try and 'keep the cosmic peace'. They were strongly against aggression and hunting and war."

Martha's eyes narrowed.

"This one must have missed a few vital lessons, then," she murmured, suddenly able to feel the heat from its eyes burning against her skin, much as it had three days ago. But the Doctor shook his head sadly.

"No, it's just been alone for too long. The Kiangans kept themselves to themselves for so long, but it seems nobody, no matter how quiet and contemplative a race they are, can outrun war. Being peacekeepers, they were destroyed with ease, as you can imagine. No weapons, no armies, no means of defence, nothing. They must have sent this one as a last ditch attempt to ensure Minuisa remained unharmed. Perhaps the race as a whole didn't think they'd die out and would still need food supplies. But since the Kiangans and their planet were all but destroyed centuries ago, she," he nodded at the scanner, "must have been alone for an awfully long time."

Martha shook her head and shuddered.

"I'd probably be more inclined to sympathise with it if it hadn't tried to eat us both," she said, stepping away and perching herself on the edge of the sofa again.

The Doctor frowned at her.

"Martha, if you'd been alone for centuries with nothing to eat, I'm quite sure you'd want to sink your teeth into the first person you came across, too. You can hardly blame her. She's been living off the same sources of vegetation since her race died out. And if the last thing she saw of the outside Universe was a bunch of power-hungry egomaniac psychopaths hell bent on destruction and concurring all, she's bound to have altered her philosophies over the years."

Martha shrugged casually, but her gaze softened a little, all the same.

"So what are you going to do? You said its planet's gone. And I can't really see it running around the TARDIS in well-trained-pet mode. It could probably give me a good tan though," she added thoughtfully, staring at the glowing orbs with interest.

The Doctor rolled his eyes but chose to otherwise ignore her last remark. Instead, he bit his lip and frowned.

"I'm not sure. There isn't really anywhere else for the poor thing to go. She's spent so long here that I doubt she'd be able to survive outside Minuisa's environmental conditions. And I suppose she is doing a good job of keeping visitors at bay. Maybe we should just leave her."

Martha sighed, her pity rising despite herself.

"Can … she survive without meat?" she amended at the look he gave her. "You don't know how long it'll be until somebody else a little less fortunate and quick on their feet than us turns up. And she seemed bloody hungry as it was, that's without another thirty odd years or something on top of the wait she's already endured."

The Doctor shrugged.

"Well, she's survived this long," he said, smiling admiringly before flashing Martha a small grin. "Oh, but you've got to admit she's positively adorable!"

Martha rolled her eyes but held her tongue, failing to remind him that the creature had very nearly sent his vampiric other-half scorching head-first into Hell. Instead, she struggled to her feet again and carefully shed the Doctor's coat, folding it in half and setting it down over the sofa arm.

"Anyway," she said quietly, clearing her throat a little to dispel the croak. "I'm just going to go and clean up."

The Doctor nodded, flashing her a warm smile. But before she could turn away, he'd abandoned the scanner and stepped up in front of her, not bothering to mince words and going straight ahead with pulling her into a rib-crushing hug.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, pulling back and clamping a hand onto her shoulder. "You saved my life and I know it took a lot to do it."

Martha nodded, breath momentarily catching in her throat as he placed a grateful kiss on her cheek.

"Don't worry about it," she forced out quickly, blushing a little. "You'd have done the same for me."

He nodded, but his smile of gratitude was no less heartfelt. Feeling faintly light-headed again as his blessedly brown orbs danced with a thousand and one emotions, she chuckled a little breathlessly, dropping her gaze.

Then she remembered. And her smile slipped like a tonne of bricks as she turned back to stare up at him anxiously, cheeks burning and her mind drawing a blank all of a sudden. "And … and about what happened before," she started quickly, wondering if he'd even remembered. Seeing his eyes widen and a blush of his own blossom against his pale skin, she took that as a 'yes'.

Flinching, she pressed on, voice barely above a whisper. "I'm really um … I'm sorry for … y'know. It's just I needed to distract you. And it wasn't like I planned it or anything, and I wasn't thinking straight and … you know, it was just so …" but she fell silent, seeing the smile tugging at his lips and narrowing her eyes in irritation. What part of her discomfort did he find so amusing?!

He nodded and cleared his throat again, trying to cover up his grin with a look of sympathetic acceptance.

"It's alright," he said carefully, turning away and running a nervous hand through his hair.

"Yeah," she whispered sheepishly, "I just … yeah, I'd have done anything to snap you out of it."

He nodded again quickly.

"'Course you would've," he said, cursing himself for letting his voice quiver a little.

"Anyway," Martha murmured, turning on the spot, mind dazed and expression vacant, "shower. Back in a bit."

He watched her walk to the door in silence, his smile returning and stretching the entire width of his face. Turning away, he was about to go back to the repairs he'd been in the middle of when she spoke up again.

"Oh, Doctor?" she asked, voice a little more serious than it had been moments before.

"Hmm?"

She'd turned to look at him, a hand on the door behind her but her attention focussed on him, now. He frowned.

"There won't be any lasting damage, will there? No side-effects or anything?"

He opened his mouth in surprise, paused as he contemplated her question, then shrugged.

"Erm … I dunno. I don't think so." He flashed her a bemused smile. "You might find I have the odd craving for steak, though. That's happened to me before. Actually, I think I'm hungry, how about you? Starving, even. Fancy steak? I could just eat a steak, if I'm honest. And I know a great place in the Recklox galaxy, they do the best steaks! Proper quality, and I'm not talking beef …"

"Yeah, sounds great, Doctor," she called quickly before rolling her eyes and turning away.

"Oh, and Martha?"

Sighing, she turned back, half-way out the door and having to strain her eyes to see him as he dashed around the console, back to his manically energetic self.

"What?" she asked, unable to bite back her grin as his face lit up.

"Wear red. You're going to need it."

She stared at him, completely lost.

"Come again?"

He flashed her a cheeky grin, hair ruffled, fingers a flying blur as they zoomed over controls and switches.

"Well, we won't get into where we're going without at least one of us wearing red."

Martha nodded, then narrowed her eyes and asked delicately, "well then, why can't you wear it? Why do I have to?"

He shot her a look, deep, brown and blessedly normal orbs sparkling with enthusiastic delight. Their eyes locked and she was momentarily robbed of breath, speech and movement. His tones a little less his own and a little more … enrapturing … Martha had a sudden and rather inexplicable revelation, wondering mutely just how much of his vampiric power had been properly contained. He was himself, there was no doubt in her mind about that. The antidote had served its purpose, quelling his 'other half' completely … but that hold he seemed to have over her … had he always had it and she'd just never noticed it before? Perhaps their latest mishaps had served to bring it to her attention...

But whatever it was, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd done something right. His ego probably wouldn't be able to take it.

Instead, she sent him a bright smile and a small nod of agreement before turning and hurrying towards her room, his words ringing around her head and the truth sinking in that little bit deeper than his blasé attitude had intended.

Just for a second, she saw his eyes burning scarlet in her mind, their look intense, deprived and ravenous.

A vampire's eyes.

And then she saw them as he'd spoken, that mischievous lilt of his reflected twice over within their swirling hazel depths. Shaking her head, she hurried on through the corridors in silence, smirking as she saw him reply to her question in earnest again before she could clear her mind of the event completely.

"I don't think red's really my colour."

He'd probably never know just how much she agreed with him on that one.

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Blessed Be!

Hugs,
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx