Hands to Hold, Hell to Pay

After ten years of defending Earth with Torchwood Three, Lilithanadir is going home. But is she ready to face another person from her past? Or worse, someone from her father's? A rewrite of series 3 of Doctor Who.


9. Midnight Conversations

“Tell me about the future.”

Lilith opened her eyes. “Martha, I’m not supposed to—”

“Talk about it, I know.” Martha sighed. “But I just need to be reassured, you know? That there is a future, that there’s something beyond all this rubbish. Please.”

Lilith thought about telling her that time is always in flux, that it can be rewritten in the blink on an eye, but instead she said, “A Doctor.”


“You become a doctor. For a military organization, sure, but you’re still Doctor Jones. At least until you get married, then your name changes.”

Martha shifted to look at Lilith. “Married.”

Lilith nodded. “I can’t tell you his name, but he’s a family friend. You meet through Dad. Mom always said he was the one who was most thrilled to find out you two were together.

“At your wedding, I was the flower girl. I don’t remember much considering I was only three, but I remember that Uncle Mi— ah, your husband demanded that Dad pick up his best man from a parallel universe.

“You two are my sister Darkel’s godparents. He adores her and you spoil her to death. You and he spoil all four of us, really.” Lilith gulped, attempting to hold back tears. Her next sentence came out a bit hoarse. “Your son was two when I left.”

Martha was silent for a few moments. “Do you miss us?”

Lilith smiled and took Martha’s hand. “I don’t have to miss you. You’re right here.”

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