Today the guns are silent.

[toldastory]

Who: Martha Snape-Jones and Severus Snape. [Closed. Complete.]
What: A log of badassery, daleks and then horrors.
Where: Sobek Croix
When: Now.
Notes: None that I can think of.
Warnings:

Well, this week was certainly familiar. Martha Jones had gone firmly into companion mode as soon as the Hellsing shut down had happened. Everything was triage now, and treating as many people as Martha possibly could. It was easier to be in crisis medical mode. There was something familiar about it, like the world ending and the only thing that mattered was getting this person through this night, and perhaps the next. As many as they needed to until the world once more righted itself. After all, there were gods here, how could they keep allowing this to go on? Perhaps she really didn't want to know.

The portkey had taken care of the angel, thank goodness, because the last thing that Martha had been willing to do was to stay locked up inside of their home when this was going on. There was something inside of her that simply wouldn't allow her to do that. Perhaps it had been the angel outside her front door, but Martha was reminded of how many things there were from her world that people didn't have a point of reference too. And there were some things that a person needed one for and Martha's conversation with Steph had made that clear.

Familiar too was the way Martha was garbed. 'I am not a solider' solider outfit, plain, black with her larger on the inside backpack, filled with food and medical supplies. If she had lost some weight (to starving) and was minus a few tattoos, Martha Jones could have been a past version of herself.

Each step she took was purposeful, and there was no hesitation in it. Monsters were around them, and Martha didn't flinch. At least not yet. No, there would be time for flinching, but far away there was a sound so soft that Martha almost thought was a memory. Ex-term-in-ate.

Comments

[subtlescience]

If there was something Severus had learned in the year that had passed for him on the Barge, it was that he ought not underestimate Martha's capabilities. He had seen her through a Mirrorverse, watched her warden a goddess, and, amongst other things which might have broken lesser mortals, run an infirmary. So it was that he didn't attempt to interrupt her natural instincts to protect and heal.

But he did follow along with a wand drawn. Particularly after the incident with the Angel. And if, on occasion, he shot her a disapproving glower or two for how she was neglecting herself - well. That was his natural instinct and she could bloody well deal with it.

He had forgone the Muggle clothing; his own robes were better suited to duelling, with plenty of room in pockets for potions she couldn't carry. He and Martha made an odd pair, he supposed. Not that he put a good deal of thought into it.

He took no notice of the sound; she had never told him about Daleks. His attention was on defense, not identification of weird noise sources; there were a good deal of strange noises going on at the moment and one 'Exterminate' didn't exactly beg for attention.