The Doctor's Angel

42

Merandria had been watching the Winchesters face off with Death, shock coursing through her veins. Who in their right mind would gamble like that? But before she could dwell on their insanity, the familiar pull seized her—only this time, it was worse. Far worse. It felt like fire ripping through her, igniting her every nerve. Gasping for breath, she snapped her fingers, desperate for release from the pain, and appeared on a ship. The deck was eerily quiet, no one around, but every instinct screamed at her to run.

She had to move—had to save him. Hurry, hurry. Her mind screamed at her, the connection to the Doctor pulsating violently, each beat intensifying the agony. Burn with me. The words echoed in her head, making her nearly double over in pain. What *was* this? She had never felt anything like it, this burning sensation that left her teetering on the edge of death.

But there was no time to think. The Doctor needed her, and the burning desire to protect him outweighed everything else. Without another thought, she ran. Faster than she ever had, her legs carrying her as though her very existence depended on it—because it did. If he died, she died. She couldn't let that happen. Faster, faster, the chant repeated in her mind, blending with the growing pain. And then she heard him, the familiar voice filled with pain that mirrored her own.

"That sun is alive! A living organism! They scooped out its heart and used it for fuel. And now it's screaming."

Was that why she was feeling this? The Doctor's anguish intertwined with hers, the sun's pain bleeding into her soul. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, but the torment was relentless. As she rounded a corner, a flicker of relief washed over her when she finally saw him—only for it to be short-lived.

"It'll use me to kill you if you don't stop it! The closer we get to the sun, the stronger the link!"

Ignoring the startled glances of the crew, Merandria darted toward him, determined to take his pain into herself. To save him. But just as she was about to reach him, arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her back. She hadn't even heard the Doctor order them to restrain her—too focused on him, on healing him. She thrashed in their grip, fury and desperation bubbling to the surface as she fought against them.

"Let me go!" she screamed, her voice frantic, but they carried the Doctor away, leaving her behind. Using her strength, she easily broke free of the crew's hold, her angelic power surging as she raced toward the med bay, the countdown ticking ominously in the background.

The Doctor's screams echoed through the halls, each one reverberating through her chest. She could feel his terror, his pain—it was as if their souls were connected, and she was drowning in his suffering. She burst into the med bay just as the Doctor was shouting for Martha to leave. The power cut out, and darkness filled the room, but she didn't hesitate. She crossed the distance to him, her breaths ragged as she knelt beside him. Ignoring his protests, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his in an act of pure instinct, pure desperation.

She felt the sun's energy surge into her, burning through her veins, but she welcomed it—relieved to have taken the burden from him. The Doctor fought against her hold at first, but slowly, almost imperceptibly, he relaxed against her. She pulled away, her body trembling, her eyes shining with a blinding light as she absorbed the energy.

"I-I did it," she whispered, her voice barely audible through the strain. "Burn with me..."

The Doctor stared at her in shock, realization dawning on him. She had done it again. Sacrificed herself for him. The relief he felt was short-lived, replaced by a gut-wrenching fear as he saw the toll it was taking on her.

"Martha!" he called over the comms, his voice urgent. "Dump it all. Now!"

He glanced back at Merandria, her eyes filled with a strange light as she repeated the words, her voice trembling with pain.

"Burn with me..."

Her body began to shake, the strain of housing two entities overwhelming her. The Doctor could only watch in horror as her scream pierced the room, an agonizing, soul-wrenching cry that sent shivers down his spine. It was meant to be him—*he* was supposed to be the one enduring this. Her eyes shone white, the sound growing louder until it abruptly stopped. Silence filled the room, broken only by her ragged breaths as she slumped against the wall, her body spent.

The Doctor moved cautiously, wrapping an arm around her trembling frame, whispering a soft, "Thank you," his voice thick with emotion. She leaned into him, still shaking, unable to comprehend what she had done.

Just then, Martha burst into the room, throwing herself at the Doctor in a hug. He shook his head, pulling back as he explained what had happened—that it was Merandria who had taken the burden. Martha turned and wrapped her arms around the angel, who stiffened in surprise. The confusion on Merandria's face was palpable as she looked at the Doctor, unsure of how to react.

The Doctor guided her arms around Martha and himself, the small gesture meant to comfort, but it only made her more uncertain. A small sob escaped her lips, and she raised a hand to wipe at her eyes, unable to understand what was happening.

She looked at the Doctor and Martha, their faces filled with pity. She hated that look. It made her skin crawl, and with a snap of her fingers, she was gone—leaving the Doctor and Martha behind, both staring at the empty space where she had been, confusion and concern lingering in their eyes.

The Doctor swallowed hard, the weight of her actions settling on him. He had to keep her at arm's length now. He couldn't afford to let her in, not after Rose. Not so soon. He couldn't trust her. Not with the way she made him feel.

With a tight smile at Martha, he led the way off the ship, the thought of Merandria still heavy on his mind.