Reunited (3/15) - Torchwood
Title: Reunited (3/15)
Author: aibhinn
Pairings: Jack/Rose, Jack/Ten, Jack/Ten/Rose, Ten/Rose, mentions of (past) Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG this chapter
Spoilers: Doctor Who through "Doomsday", Torchwood through "End of Days".
Summary: The Rift is much more active than it was, and has been disgorging aliens and out-of-time people at an alarming rate… including one person Jack never expected to see again.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Everything belongs to Auntie Beeb. I'm stuck here on the far side of the wrong continent, playing in her sandbox.
Author's note: Still ignoring the canon end of 1x13, "End of Days," so this is officially an AU fic. Thanks, as always, to my immensely talented and patient beta readers: sensiblecat, joely_jo, rabid1st, and larielromeniel. Especially larielromeniel, who read umpteen jillion versions of this chapter and reassured me that it wasn't utter tripe. Here's hoping you agree!
Part I | Part II | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV
Jack woke suddenly and completely, reaching for his pistol even before his brain had fully engaged. Owen stood in front of him, frozen in place, one hand on the empty glucose bag that still hung from the IV pole. Sighing, Jack relaxed back into his chair, rubbing his face. Every nerve was vibrating from being startled awake. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I heard someone moving." Moving stealthily, to be precise. The years he'd spent as a Time Agent, and on the ruined remains of Earth after the Dalek attack, had taught him that the sound of someone trying to be quiet probably meant they had something to hide.
"Didn't want to wake you," Owen said, just as softly. "Or her." He nodded toward Rose's unconscious form as he detached the IV bag from the line and dropped it in the medical waste bin. "The sedative I gave her wasn't all that strong."
Jack rubbed his eyes. "She looks pretty out of it to me."
"No, this is a natural sleep," Owen explained. "Based on the way she was raving last night, who knows the last time she actually slept." He detached the other two empty IV bags as well and chucked them out, then gently pinched a fold of her skin between two fingers and let go. It dropped back into place, leaving no evidence that he'd touched her.
"How's she doing?" Jack came over to the gurney, his eyes full of concern.
Owen nodded. "Skin turgor's much improved. Lips aren't dry. I'd say that she's no longer dehydrated."
He hesitated for a moment, as though he wanted to say something else but wasn't quite sure how. Finally, he turned to Jack, shoulders set. "Look," he began, "I was-I mean-" He huffed out a breath and looked away, putting his hands on his hips. "I was out of line last night. It won't happen again."
Jack nodded, though inwardly he was more than a little startled. Owen, apologising? Does that mean there'll be a quartet of horsemen in the sky soon? God, I hope not; I've experienced too many Armageddons as it is. "Okay," he said. "Apology accepted." His gaze fell on the empty spot where he'd placed Rose's clothing. "What's happened to her clothes?"
Owen shrugged and let his hands drop, turning to open the cupboard behind him. Jack could read relief in the way the tension left the other man's body. "Gwen came in early as well and wrote down the sizes, then wrapped them up in plastic and put them in storage, in case we need them for anything. That's a copper's thinking to my mind, but she's been right before. Only don't ever let her know I said that." He pulled out another bag and hung it, attaching it to Rose's IV line. "Then she went out shopping, said she was going to pick Rose up an outfit for today. If she's doing well enough, she can do her own shopping later. If not, we can buy her some more."
Jack was about to comment that Rose hadn’t been the type of girl to let other women do her shopping for her, but a look at her gaunt face silenced him. He coldn’t begin to think how Rose had gotten here, or the way she might have changed. "Okay," he agreed. He let the fingers of one hand trail gently over her hair. She looked so peaceful, sleeping like this. "Do you think she will be well enough?" he asked, trying to keep his voice detached.
"No way to know." The medic turned back around and leaned back against the counter, one foot raised to rest flat against the cupboard door. "I've never seen dehydration as bad as hers. Not in someone who pulled through, at any rate. It's difficult to say whether her delirium was a result of that, coupled with a lack of sleep and the malnutrition, or whether she really is unstable. We'll just have to wait until she wakes on her own. I will say, though, that falling into a natural sleep is a good sign."
Jack nodded slowly. "So when will we know if she's…going to be okay?" he asked. He couldn't quite bring himself to say 'sane'.
"When she wakes up. Till then, we've just got to wait."
***
Rose ran. Heart pounding, chest aching, side throbbing with a painful stitch. She ran and she dared not stop.
It was coming.
Images flashed to either side of her: illuminated faces in the darkness. Alien faces, human faces. Some were snarling; some were terrified; some were pleading. Many of them, too many, were faces she knew. Adam. Mickey. Mum. Pete. Jake. Suki. Cathica. Gwyneth. Toby. Chloe. Jack.
Jack.
Blood trickled down their faces; their hands stretched pleadingly out toward her; their mouths moved in a desperate, echoing chorus:
don't leave us don't leave us don't leave us… help us help us help us… please please please… Rose Rose Rose….
But she couldn't, she couldn't stop, it was coming, it was right there so close almost there hot breath glowing eyes outstretched talons reaching reaching reaching-!
She screamed, sitting bolt upright. Hands touched her, holding her; she fought them off desperately. "Rose," a voice said soothingly. "Rose. It's me. It's Jack. C'mon. You're okay. It's all right. You're safe. Just a dream. Just a dream."
Slowly the words-and more importantly, the voice-penetrated her consciousness. She stopped struggling, let her eyes focus on the familiar, worried face beside her. The very familiar face. She blinked, once, twice, as her mind tried to assimilate what it saw.
It couldn't be.
"Jack?" she faltered.
He half-smiled, that familiar quirk of the lips she'd always loved. "Yeah, it's me."
Relief, shock, joy, and love swept through her all at once, and she threw her arms around him. "Oh, Jack!" she sobbed. "Oh, God-I thought I'd never see you again! I thought you were dead! I missed you so much-so much!"
"I missed you too, Rose. More than I can say." He held her, one hand stroking her hair gently, as she wept into his broad shoulder. "Don't worry, honey," he murmured. "I'll make sure it's all okay. I promise."
She didn't know how long she remained in his arms, crying; all she knew was that the fear and horror and loneliness that had plagued her were slowly but surely being drained away. Jack just held her, murmuring quietly in a soothing tone, and allowed her this release. Finally her sobs hiccupped to an end, and she pulled away reluctantly, sitting up. Jack offered her a hanky to dry her face, and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "You all right?"
She closed her eyes, swallowed, then opened them again. "Yeah. 'M all right." She wiped her eyes, and looked around at the room she was in. It was smallish, almost round, and unenclosed, with a set of stairs leading up to a railed-off upper level.
Feeling uncomfortably exposed, she tugged the blanket higher, holding it over her breasts. She was only wearing a hospital gown, and she seemed to be on some sort of hospital trolley. An IV was secured to her right arm, and behind Jack, a slender, dark-haired man stood, watching. She met Jack's eyes again. "Where am I? How did I get here?"
"You don't remember?" His eyes were intense. "Think, Rose. What's the last thing you remember?"
She shivered, and he shifted slightly, sliding an arm round her shoulders. The embrace was familiar, comforting, and she found herself relaxing into it. "I remember…darkness," she said slowly. "And fear-God, I was so scared. I tried to find my way out, but I didn't know where I was going. I could have been running in circles. And it seemed to last forever, like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from." She shivered again, the recent terror from her dream combining with the memory of past fears and thrumming through her veins.
His arm tightened comfortingly. "Do you remember where you were when you went into the darkness?"
She cast her mind farther back. "I don't know. I was in there for so long." She paused, frowning, as a flash of memory surfaced. "I was in…Cardiff. In the parallel universe. And I wanted to die. I just wanted to end it. I was so tired, so tired of life going on and on and on." A surge of grief came with the memory, and she swallowed. "We'd just buried Mickey the day before. He was the last one, the last friend I had from this world. And I just wanted to…disappear. To let myself go. I was walking in the Roald Dahl Plass and I…slipped, somehow. Sideways, it seemed, but not physically. And there I was, in the dark. I thought I'd died." She looked down. "And then I realised that, if I was dead, I was in hell."
Jack glanced at the other bloke, who said tactfully, "I'll just go check on Gwen, see if she's back with those clothes." He took the steps two at a time and was quickly out of sight.
"Clothes?" Rose asked hopefully. Anything to keep her from having to think about those memories, and the dreams that went with them. The glowing red eyes appeared in her mind's eye again. She pushed them roughly away.
"We got your sizes from the clothes you were wearing, and one of my team went out to buy you an outfit or two. If you're feeling up to it later, or tomorrow, you can do your own shopping. On the company card, of course." He brushed a stray hair out of her face, his eyes full of concern and love. She felt tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. Nobody had looked at her like that in so long. "You were pretty traumatised when we found you yesterday," he said softly. "You sure you're okay?"
Bits and pieces of more recent memory were still unfolding slowly in her mind. Some of what she'd been raving about yesterday came clear, and she blushed. "I must've sounded like a right nutter," she said, hoping he'd take the bait and be deflected from the question. Are you okay? had so many levels to it at this point that she wasn't sure if she could answer it.
He raised his eyebrows. "You didn't answer my question."
Damn. But that was Jack all over: one-track mind, his, once he got the bit between his teeth. "I'm fine," she said, with an attempt at a smile. "Well, except for being practically naked, on a hospital trolley, in a strange place, with only fragments of my memory." Her stomach growled loudly. "And I'm starving," she added longingly.
Jack laughed, and she could hear his relief in it. Good; he wasn't going to pursue the deeper meanings of okay right now. "I'm not surprised. We'll see what we can scrounge up in the way of food. There are a few restaurants around here; we might get them to box up a little something for you."
A familiar-looking woman with dark hair and a brilliant smile appeared at the railing, brandishing a pair of shopping bags in triumph. "Clothes!" she announced, running lightly down the stairs. "I've bought you a couple of outfits, nothing posh, but they should fit well enough. You've lost some weight since you got the clothes you had on, so I bought these a bit smaller. And I've got a belt as well. And shoes-don't know what your favourite styles are, but I got some basic trainers to start with. When you're up to it, I'll take you out and we'll have a proper girls' day. Maybe even get our hair done, go to the spa, get facials."
Rose couldn't help but smile, the woman's delight was so infectious. Jack too was grinning. "I don't know if you remember, Rose, but this is Gwen. She works for me."
Another memory surged, this one from long ago, one of her earliest adventures with the Doctor, and a jolt went through her. "Gwyneth?" she asked involuntarily.
"No, just Gwen." The delight was fading from Gwen's face. "You recognised me last night as well. You said you'd seen me die."
It was almost a question. Rose shook her head. "No," she said. "Not you, but… someone who looked a lot like you. Was a long time ago, anyway." The image of her first Doctor returned to her, and she couldn't keep the tears from filling her eyes. She looked away, a little embarrassed, and there was a bit of an awkward silence as she tried to get herself under control.
"I'm sure Rose would like to get dressed," Jack put in at last.
"God, yes," Rose said, wiping her eyes surreptitiously. She ran a hand over her hair, grimacing. "And a shower, maybe? With shampoo? Feels like I've got small animals nesting in here."
Gwen laughed and looked at Jack. "Think you could give up your bathroom for an hour or so, in a good cause?"
"Absolutely." He smiled at Rose again, and again she felt a surge of comfort, safety, as though she were protected in a way she hadn't been in… years, really. It made even this strange dream she was in seem comfortable. Because it had to be a dream, she reasoned. No way could she have made it back to her home universe after all this time. No way could she just happen to run into Jack Harkness. It was impossible; she couldn't get back, the Doctor had been very clear about that all those years ago. No, it had to be a dream. But at least, she thought as she laid the blanket aside and tugged the hospital gown as tightly around herself as she could, it wasn't a nightmare. Eventually she'd wake up and find that she was still living in the parallel universe-that her Mum and Dad were cooing over the baby, and Mickey would show up shortly to take her to work.
She dreaded waking up.
Jack disconnected the IV line and pulled the port out of her vein, applying pressure with a bit of cotton wool. "Hold that," he instructed. Obediently, she put her fingers atop the wool as he dug into a drawer and pulled out a large sticking plaster, of the type usually used for scraped knees and such. He removed the cotton wool and wrapped the plaster over her arm securely, making sure it was properly stuck. "There you are," he said, grinning, then cocked his head to one side, contemplating her for a moment. She frowned up at him questioningly, wondering what the problem was.
"You're not going to be able to get down there on your own," he said, almost to himself, and suddenly she was being scooped up into his arms as though she weighed nothing at all.
She yelped, startled, and clung to his shoulders as he strode toward the stairs and took them two at a time. "Ianto!" he called as they emerged into an enormous room, several stories high, with a strange pillar down the middle of it, water trickling down it and pooling at the bottom. "Get us a couple of breakfasts down here, will you? Something light and easy on the stomach, nothing heavy."
"Of course, sir," a Welsh voice said. She turned to see a handsome young man in a suit standing off to the side. She caught his eye and he smiled reassuringly at her. "Don't worry, miss," he said. "You're safe with us."
I'm safe with Jack, she thought, but smiled back anyway.
"Jack!" a woman's voice called. Rose turned round as far as she could and saw a beautiful Japanese woman at a desk with five or six enormous computer screens, staring at one of them with concern on her face. "We've got another one. This one looks alien-maybe a Weevil."
"You and Owen handle it," he said, never breaking stride. "I've got to get Rose settled."
"Oi," Rose said, with an attempt at a light tone. "You gonna introduce me, or you just gonna carry me half-naked past all these people?" She was very aware that his arm was holding the bottom hem of her hospital gown tight against her thighs, and equally aware what a show the whole lot of them would get if it slipped. She was just trying very hard not to think about it.
Jack stopped and looked at her, flushing slightly. "Oh," he said. "Yeah. Sorry." He turned back around so she could see the four people arrayed in something of a semicircle, looking at her. "Rose Tyler, this is Toshiko Sato-" The woman nodded, with a polite smile. "-Owen Harper-"
"Doctor Owen Harper," he corrected.
"Gwen Cooper, you've met-" Gwen nodded, with that same broad smile she'd had earlier. "-and Ianto Jones." Ianto, too, nodded politely. "Gwen," Jack went on, "why don't you just drop the bags over here by the entrance to my quarters, and you go with Tosh and Owen? I don't want to take any chances."
"Tosh and I can handle one Weevil," Owen protested, picking something up off his desk and examining it before sticking it in his coat pocket. Rose realised with a bit of a shock that it was a gun-a proper gun, with bullets and all, not a sonic blaster.
"I'm not taking the chance that there's more than one. All three of you go."
Owen rolled his eyes, but Jack ignored him, just turned and continued walking with Rose. Gwen jogged behind with the bags, but to Rose's surprise, she went through a glass door and into an office, ducked behind a desk-Jack's desk? It must be-and dropped them by a sort of manhole entrance. She held the door open for Jack to bring Rose through, and then she flashed a grin at the two of them and was off, following Toshiko and Owen. Even more surprising, Jack set Rose on her feet next to the manhole, hanging onto her until he was sure her legs could support her weight. "I'm going to go on down the ladder," he said. "You sit on the edge and I'll lift you down, okay?"
"You sleep in a hole in the ground?" she asked.
That deadly grin again, the one she remembered. "Yep. Just think how long I've waited to get you into my bedroom."
She flushed bright red, but managed to shoot back, "Really? I thought you were after the Doctor."
He laughed, kissing her forehead before starting down the ladder. Trust Jack to turn everything into a flirtation. It was reassuring-at least he hadn't changed that much. "Okay," he said from below, "I'm ready whenever you are."
She sat down carefully, dangling her legs through the circular hole and looking at Jack. He seemed an awfully long way down. "You sure about this?"
"Positive. I've got you, Rose, don't worry."
All right. She trusted him. She took a deep breath and leant forward, grabbing hold of the far side of the hole before letting herself slide down. Just as her fingers caught her weight at the edge, she felt Jack's big hands at her waist, supporting her. "Gotcha," he said, and she let go to allow him to bring her safely down the rest of the way. "All right?" he asked once she was on her feet again.
"Yeah." She looked around. His room was surprisingly bare, almost monastic: a single camp bed, a few bookshelves, a lamp or two, a chair. There was a room off to the side that Rose assumed must be the loo. The only decorations were photographs, most of them from the '40s, judging by the hairstyles and clothing. Not quite what she'd have expected of Jack's room. In fact, nothing at all like what she'd have expected. It was a bit disturbing. If this was her dream, shouldn't his room look like the one he'd had on the TARDIS-big bed, lots of pillows, more than a little hedonistic?
Jack didn't seem to notice her surprise; he was already moving, turning on the light in the bathroom, pulling out towels for her. "The hot water's really hot," he warned. "And the taps are finicky. Are you sure you're all right to shower by yourself? I'd run you a bath, but I haven't got a bathtub."
She grinned at him, deciding he deserved a bit of his own back. "Gettin' me into your bedroom's not enough, you have to shower with me as well?"
He laughed. "Saw right through me," he said with a matching grin, but then sobered. "Seriously, Rose, I don't know how you're feeling now, but you were awfully weak when we found you last night. I just want to be sure you're safe in there."
"You could always wait in here so you can come running if I slip," she offered. Honestly, the idea of showering with Jack wasn't unpleasant-it never had been-but until she worked out a little more about how she'd got here and why, she wasn't inclined to take chances. If indeed, she was here, and not in some sort of dream.
But if it is a dream, does it really matter?
"Oh, I'd planned to, anyway. Hang on." He climbed halfway back up the ladder, grabbed the shopping bags, and came back down. "Here are your clothes; you can dress in there when you're done." The smirk again. "Unless you need help with that too."
"Perv," she said good-naturedly, but instead of taking the shopping, she stepped toward him and slid her arms around his torso, laying her cheek against his chest. He let the bags drop and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly to him and resting his head against hers. She sighed, closing her eyes. "It's so good to see you, Jack," she said quietly. "So good to be back with you."
"Same here," he said softly. "I missed you, Rose."
There was a long moment of comfortable silence while they held each other, just revelling in being together again. At last Rose's stomach growled again, loudly, and they both laughed as they separated. "S'pose I'd better get showered so we can eat," Rose said.
"Yeah. Ianto will be back soon. Though, knowing him, he'll telepathically sense exactly when we're coming back up and will walk in with piping hot food just in the nick of time."
Rose had bent to pick up the shopping bags; now she froze and glanced up at him. "Telepathically?" Like the Doctor?
"Just kidding," Jack reassured her. "He's got very good timing, that's all."
"Oh, okay." She stood back up, bags in hand, and headed for the loo, but a question-the question that had been nagging her since she'd woken up to find Jack there-was still in the back of her mind, and she had to know. She turned back to look at him. "Jack," she said a little nervously, "do you know-I mean-have you seen-I mean…does the Doctor know you're alive?"
Jack closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. "I don't know, Rose," he said quietly. "I haven't seen him since Satellite Five."
"Oh," she repeated. Disappointment welled up in her, though she knew she shouldn't have hoped. "Okay." Cheeks flaming, she was grateful to be able to shut the bathroom door behind her.
Shower. Shower shower shower. She felt grimy-not with dirt (though she seemed to remember being much dirtier than this-had that doctor, what's-his-name, Owen, washed her? She hoped not) but with memories. And guilt. All those months she'd travelled with the Doctor after he'd regenerated, and they'd never gone back for Jack. She'd asked, and the Doctor had refused to talk about him, and she'd dropped the subject. She should have asked some more. She should have pushed. She should have insisted. After all, this was Jack.
She sighed and untied the strings on her hospital gown, letting it fall to the floor behind her as she reached up to pull the elastic from her hair. Half-turning to open the shower door, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and stopped dead, staring in horror.
She was all but skeletal. Her hips and ribs were clearly visible beneath her skin; her collarbones stood out prominently; her hands were thin and bony. She raised her fingers to her cheeks, felt the way her skin stretched over her skull. She had to have lost close to twenty pounds.
But how?
I can't have been lost that long, she thought, unable to drag her eyes away from her reflection. Can I? No food, no water, for long enough to lose all this weight…?
But she couldn't die. She didn't age. And there was no way for her to judge how long she'd been lost in the darkness. Could it really have been that long? Weeks? Months? More?
"What's happened to me?" she whispered, staring at the gaunt stranger before her. Her eyes filled with tears. "Doctor, what's happened to me?"
***
Rose took longer in the shower than he had anticipated-in fact, he had to stop himself twice from knocking on the door to be sure she was all right. She came out eventually, hair damp and hanging to her shoulders, face bare of any makeup, wearing the clothes Gwen had bought: a blue-and-white striped cotton shirt, jeans, a belt, and white trainers. Gwen had good taste, and a good eye for size; they were a reasonably close fit, though still hung a little loosely on her too-thin frame.
God, she was beautiful.
Her smile seemed hesitant and he wondered how much she was holding back from him. How 'okay' was okay, really? How much had she been through? How much more could she handle before she broke? This wasn't the strong, resilient Rose he'd known. This Rose was much more fragile, and it frightened him.
Shoving his questions aside, he smiled back. "Ready for some breakfast? I'd bet Ianto's shown up with the take-aways by now."
"Yeah, I'm starved." She still had the bags in hand with the second set of clothing; she hefted them questioningly. "Okay to leave these here?"
"Of course." She set them aside out of the way, and he said, "D'you think you can handle the ladder alone?"
She eyed it contemplatively. "I think so," she said. "Not positive, but I think so."
"I'll be right behind you, just in case. Don't worry, I can catch you."
"Yeah, not surprising just now, is it?" she said, mostly under her breath, but before he could ask her what she meant, she put her foot on the bottom rung and started climbing. Swiftly, he moved beneath her to spot her in case she fell. She moved slowly, but got up the rungs without incident and pulled herself out of the circular hole. "Okay," she called down.
He followed, swinging off the ladder to hold out a hand to her. "Let's go see if Ianto's back."
The light at the main door began flashing as they came out into the rest of the Hub, and the door rolled to one side. Tosh entered backwards, gun drawn as she led in two shackled, bound Weevils. Owen and Gwen followed, their own guns trained on the two aliens. Frowning, Jack let go Rose's hand and put his arm in front of her, gently pushing her back so he was between her and the Weevils. "Why are you coming in this way?" he asked.
"Closer," Owen gritted. "Faster. Easier to get a bit of backup. These two are bloody dangerous. They cornered a kid and were about to kill him when we got there. He ran away before we could check on him or retcon him. You want to open the door to the cells so we don't have to look away?"
"Stay here," Jack said quietly to Rose, drawing his gun. Carefully, he edged sideways around Tosh toward the metal door down to the cell block and opened it, standing well out of the way and with his gun pointed at the left-hand Weevil, knowing if the right-hand one made the wrong move, he could have his weapon trained on it in a heartbeat. "All right, door's open. Come on through."
Tosh took another step backward, but her heel caught the edge of a cord and she wavered, off-balance. Instinctively, Jack moved to catch her, and that was all the excuse the Weevils needed. Both of them roared their defiance and swung around, knocking Gwen and Owen's guns out of their hands and head-butting them. Both humans fell to the ground and instantly, the aliens were running despite their hands being shackled behind their backs. Jack brought his gun up and fired, once, twice. The bullets ricocheted off the wall and the Weevils changed course, away from the door and toward-
Oh, God, no, please-
-toward Rose, who froze, petrified with fear as the sharp-toothed aliens came straight for her. Jack swore and ran. He didn't dare fire; he might hit her. "Rose, get down!" he yelled. "Drop to the floor!"
But before she could unfreeze her muscles to obey, both Weevils skidded to a stop about five feet away, staring at her. Their roars of anger subsided to quieter chirps and cries, almost whimpers. Rose didn't move, just stared at them with her heart in her eyes, clearly terrified.
And the Weevils began to back away.
Slowly, as though she were a predator they didn't want to anger, the Weevils moved away from Rose, crouching submissively, making small, clearly fear-laden noises. Jack got between them and Rose, gun pointed at them, but they completely ignored him; just backed up until they were against the wall and huddled there, mewling pitifully.
"What're they doing?" Owen asked in disbelief. Tosh and Gwen were staring as well.
Jack let his gun hand drop to his side, though he didn't quite dare holster it yet. "I don't know," he said. "Just get them the hell out of here."
The Weevils went meekly this time, looking over their shoulders at Rose as they went. She stood there watching them, her expression filled with a mixture of confusion and fear and other things Jack couldn't begin to describe. Once the others had got the Weevils down into the cell area, he finally re-holstered his weapon and turned to Rose, taking her hands. "You all right?" he asked.
"Yeah," she breathed, still staring at the door through which they'd disappeared. She paused, shook her head, and looked up at him properly, meeting his eyes. "Yeah. I'm all right." She blew out a breath and looked back toward where they'd gone. "What were those things?"
"Aliens that we get a lot of here, through the Rift. We call them Weevils. No idea what they call themselves, or even if they have language; they seem to be a fairly primitive lot. They don't usually give us that much trouble, though. Or show up in pairs." He cupped her cheek with his hand, guiding her gaze back to him. "You sure you're okay? That had to be terrifying."
"Yeah, I'm sure." Her eyes were deep, dark, unfathomable. "But why'd they back away? What did I do? Did I scare them off or something?"
He shook his head. "Nothing that I know of can actually scare a Weevil. I've never seen one back down like that. I don't know what happened." But I'm damn well going to find out, he thought grimly. He wasn't sure he liked where this was headed. "Come on," he said. "Let's see if Ianto's brought your breakfast."
Author: aibhinn
Pairings: Jack/Rose, Jack/Ten, Jack/Ten/Rose, Ten/Rose, mentions of (past) Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG this chapter
Spoilers: Doctor Who through "Doomsday", Torchwood through "End of Days".
Summary: The Rift is much more active than it was, and has been disgorging aliens and out-of-time people at an alarming rate… including one person Jack never expected to see again.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Everything belongs to Auntie Beeb. I'm stuck here on the far side of the wrong continent, playing in her sandbox.
Author's note: Still ignoring the canon end of 1x13, "End of Days," so this is officially an AU fic. Thanks, as always, to my immensely talented and patient beta readers: sensiblecat, joely_jo, rabid1st, and larielromeniel. Especially larielromeniel, who read umpteen jillion versions of this chapter and reassured me that it wasn't utter tripe. Here's hoping you agree!
Part I | Part II | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV
Jack woke suddenly and completely, reaching for his pistol even before his brain had fully engaged. Owen stood in front of him, frozen in place, one hand on the empty glucose bag that still hung from the IV pole. Sighing, Jack relaxed back into his chair, rubbing his face. Every nerve was vibrating from being startled awake. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I heard someone moving." Moving stealthily, to be precise. The years he'd spent as a Time Agent, and on the ruined remains of Earth after the Dalek attack, had taught him that the sound of someone trying to be quiet probably meant they had something to hide.
"Didn't want to wake you," Owen said, just as softly. "Or her." He nodded toward Rose's unconscious form as he detached the IV bag from the line and dropped it in the medical waste bin. "The sedative I gave her wasn't all that strong."
Jack rubbed his eyes. "She looks pretty out of it to me."
"No, this is a natural sleep," Owen explained. "Based on the way she was raving last night, who knows the last time she actually slept." He detached the other two empty IV bags as well and chucked them out, then gently pinched a fold of her skin between two fingers and let go. It dropped back into place, leaving no evidence that he'd touched her.
"How's she doing?" Jack came over to the gurney, his eyes full of concern.
Owen nodded. "Skin turgor's much improved. Lips aren't dry. I'd say that she's no longer dehydrated."
He hesitated for a moment, as though he wanted to say something else but wasn't quite sure how. Finally, he turned to Jack, shoulders set. "Look," he began, "I was-I mean-" He huffed out a breath and looked away, putting his hands on his hips. "I was out of line last night. It won't happen again."
Jack nodded, though inwardly he was more than a little startled. Owen, apologising? Does that mean there'll be a quartet of horsemen in the sky soon? God, I hope not; I've experienced too many Armageddons as it is. "Okay," he said. "Apology accepted." His gaze fell on the empty spot where he'd placed Rose's clothing. "What's happened to her clothes?"
Owen shrugged and let his hands drop, turning to open the cupboard behind him. Jack could read relief in the way the tension left the other man's body. "Gwen came in early as well and wrote down the sizes, then wrapped them up in plastic and put them in storage, in case we need them for anything. That's a copper's thinking to my mind, but she's been right before. Only don't ever let her know I said that." He pulled out another bag and hung it, attaching it to Rose's IV line. "Then she went out shopping, said she was going to pick Rose up an outfit for today. If she's doing well enough, she can do her own shopping later. If not, we can buy her some more."
Jack was about to comment that Rose hadn’t been the type of girl to let other women do her shopping for her, but a look at her gaunt face silenced him. He coldn’t begin to think how Rose had gotten here, or the way she might have changed. "Okay," he agreed. He let the fingers of one hand trail gently over her hair. She looked so peaceful, sleeping like this. "Do you think she will be well enough?" he asked, trying to keep his voice detached.
"No way to know." The medic turned back around and leaned back against the counter, one foot raised to rest flat against the cupboard door. "I've never seen dehydration as bad as hers. Not in someone who pulled through, at any rate. It's difficult to say whether her delirium was a result of that, coupled with a lack of sleep and the malnutrition, or whether she really is unstable. We'll just have to wait until she wakes on her own. I will say, though, that falling into a natural sleep is a good sign."
Jack nodded slowly. "So when will we know if she's…going to be okay?" he asked. He couldn't quite bring himself to say 'sane'.
"When she wakes up. Till then, we've just got to wait."
***
Rose ran. Heart pounding, chest aching, side throbbing with a painful stitch. She ran and she dared not stop.
It was coming.
Images flashed to either side of her: illuminated faces in the darkness. Alien faces, human faces. Some were snarling; some were terrified; some were pleading. Many of them, too many, were faces she knew. Adam. Mickey. Mum. Pete. Jake. Suki. Cathica. Gwyneth. Toby. Chloe. Jack.
Jack.
Blood trickled down their faces; their hands stretched pleadingly out toward her; their mouths moved in a desperate, echoing chorus:
don't leave us don't leave us don't leave us… help us help us help us… please please please… Rose Rose Rose….
But she couldn't, she couldn't stop, it was coming, it was right there so close almost there hot breath glowing eyes outstretched talons reaching reaching reaching-!
She screamed, sitting bolt upright. Hands touched her, holding her; she fought them off desperately. "Rose," a voice said soothingly. "Rose. It's me. It's Jack. C'mon. You're okay. It's all right. You're safe. Just a dream. Just a dream."
Slowly the words-and more importantly, the voice-penetrated her consciousness. She stopped struggling, let her eyes focus on the familiar, worried face beside her. The very familiar face. She blinked, once, twice, as her mind tried to assimilate what it saw.
It couldn't be.
"Jack?" she faltered.
He half-smiled, that familiar quirk of the lips she'd always loved. "Yeah, it's me."
Relief, shock, joy, and love swept through her all at once, and she threw her arms around him. "Oh, Jack!" she sobbed. "Oh, God-I thought I'd never see you again! I thought you were dead! I missed you so much-so much!"
"I missed you too, Rose. More than I can say." He held her, one hand stroking her hair gently, as she wept into his broad shoulder. "Don't worry, honey," he murmured. "I'll make sure it's all okay. I promise."
She didn't know how long she remained in his arms, crying; all she knew was that the fear and horror and loneliness that had plagued her were slowly but surely being drained away. Jack just held her, murmuring quietly in a soothing tone, and allowed her this release. Finally her sobs hiccupped to an end, and she pulled away reluctantly, sitting up. Jack offered her a hanky to dry her face, and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "You all right?"
She closed her eyes, swallowed, then opened them again. "Yeah. 'M all right." She wiped her eyes, and looked around at the room she was in. It was smallish, almost round, and unenclosed, with a set of stairs leading up to a railed-off upper level.
Feeling uncomfortably exposed, she tugged the blanket higher, holding it over her breasts. She was only wearing a hospital gown, and she seemed to be on some sort of hospital trolley. An IV was secured to her right arm, and behind Jack, a slender, dark-haired man stood, watching. She met Jack's eyes again. "Where am I? How did I get here?"
"You don't remember?" His eyes were intense. "Think, Rose. What's the last thing you remember?"
She shivered, and he shifted slightly, sliding an arm round her shoulders. The embrace was familiar, comforting, and she found herself relaxing into it. "I remember…darkness," she said slowly. "And fear-God, I was so scared. I tried to find my way out, but I didn't know where I was going. I could have been running in circles. And it seemed to last forever, like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from." She shivered again, the recent terror from her dream combining with the memory of past fears and thrumming through her veins.
His arm tightened comfortingly. "Do you remember where you were when you went into the darkness?"
She cast her mind farther back. "I don't know. I was in there for so long." She paused, frowning, as a flash of memory surfaced. "I was in…Cardiff. In the parallel universe. And I wanted to die. I just wanted to end it. I was so tired, so tired of life going on and on and on." A surge of grief came with the memory, and she swallowed. "We'd just buried Mickey the day before. He was the last one, the last friend I had from this world. And I just wanted to…disappear. To let myself go. I was walking in the Roald Dahl Plass and I…slipped, somehow. Sideways, it seemed, but not physically. And there I was, in the dark. I thought I'd died." She looked down. "And then I realised that, if I was dead, I was in hell."
Jack glanced at the other bloke, who said tactfully, "I'll just go check on Gwen, see if she's back with those clothes." He took the steps two at a time and was quickly out of sight.
"Clothes?" Rose asked hopefully. Anything to keep her from having to think about those memories, and the dreams that went with them. The glowing red eyes appeared in her mind's eye again. She pushed them roughly away.
"We got your sizes from the clothes you were wearing, and one of my team went out to buy you an outfit or two. If you're feeling up to it later, or tomorrow, you can do your own shopping. On the company card, of course." He brushed a stray hair out of her face, his eyes full of concern and love. She felt tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. Nobody had looked at her like that in so long. "You were pretty traumatised when we found you yesterday," he said softly. "You sure you're okay?"
Bits and pieces of more recent memory were still unfolding slowly in her mind. Some of what she'd been raving about yesterday came clear, and she blushed. "I must've sounded like a right nutter," she said, hoping he'd take the bait and be deflected from the question. Are you okay? had so many levels to it at this point that she wasn't sure if she could answer it.
He raised his eyebrows. "You didn't answer my question."
Damn. But that was Jack all over: one-track mind, his, once he got the bit between his teeth. "I'm fine," she said, with an attempt at a smile. "Well, except for being practically naked, on a hospital trolley, in a strange place, with only fragments of my memory." Her stomach growled loudly. "And I'm starving," she added longingly.
Jack laughed, and she could hear his relief in it. Good; he wasn't going to pursue the deeper meanings of okay right now. "I'm not surprised. We'll see what we can scrounge up in the way of food. There are a few restaurants around here; we might get them to box up a little something for you."
A familiar-looking woman with dark hair and a brilliant smile appeared at the railing, brandishing a pair of shopping bags in triumph. "Clothes!" she announced, running lightly down the stairs. "I've bought you a couple of outfits, nothing posh, but they should fit well enough. You've lost some weight since you got the clothes you had on, so I bought these a bit smaller. And I've got a belt as well. And shoes-don't know what your favourite styles are, but I got some basic trainers to start with. When you're up to it, I'll take you out and we'll have a proper girls' day. Maybe even get our hair done, go to the spa, get facials."
Rose couldn't help but smile, the woman's delight was so infectious. Jack too was grinning. "I don't know if you remember, Rose, but this is Gwen. She works for me."
Another memory surged, this one from long ago, one of her earliest adventures with the Doctor, and a jolt went through her. "Gwyneth?" she asked involuntarily.
"No, just Gwen." The delight was fading from Gwen's face. "You recognised me last night as well. You said you'd seen me die."
It was almost a question. Rose shook her head. "No," she said. "Not you, but… someone who looked a lot like you. Was a long time ago, anyway." The image of her first Doctor returned to her, and she couldn't keep the tears from filling her eyes. She looked away, a little embarrassed, and there was a bit of an awkward silence as she tried to get herself under control.
"I'm sure Rose would like to get dressed," Jack put in at last.
"God, yes," Rose said, wiping her eyes surreptitiously. She ran a hand over her hair, grimacing. "And a shower, maybe? With shampoo? Feels like I've got small animals nesting in here."
Gwen laughed and looked at Jack. "Think you could give up your bathroom for an hour or so, in a good cause?"
"Absolutely." He smiled at Rose again, and again she felt a surge of comfort, safety, as though she were protected in a way she hadn't been in… years, really. It made even this strange dream she was in seem comfortable. Because it had to be a dream, she reasoned. No way could she have made it back to her home universe after all this time. No way could she just happen to run into Jack Harkness. It was impossible; she couldn't get back, the Doctor had been very clear about that all those years ago. No, it had to be a dream. But at least, she thought as she laid the blanket aside and tugged the hospital gown as tightly around herself as she could, it wasn't a nightmare. Eventually she'd wake up and find that she was still living in the parallel universe-that her Mum and Dad were cooing over the baby, and Mickey would show up shortly to take her to work.
She dreaded waking up.
Jack disconnected the IV line and pulled the port out of her vein, applying pressure with a bit of cotton wool. "Hold that," he instructed. Obediently, she put her fingers atop the wool as he dug into a drawer and pulled out a large sticking plaster, of the type usually used for scraped knees and such. He removed the cotton wool and wrapped the plaster over her arm securely, making sure it was properly stuck. "There you are," he said, grinning, then cocked his head to one side, contemplating her for a moment. She frowned up at him questioningly, wondering what the problem was.
"You're not going to be able to get down there on your own," he said, almost to himself, and suddenly she was being scooped up into his arms as though she weighed nothing at all.
She yelped, startled, and clung to his shoulders as he strode toward the stairs and took them two at a time. "Ianto!" he called as they emerged into an enormous room, several stories high, with a strange pillar down the middle of it, water trickling down it and pooling at the bottom. "Get us a couple of breakfasts down here, will you? Something light and easy on the stomach, nothing heavy."
"Of course, sir," a Welsh voice said. She turned to see a handsome young man in a suit standing off to the side. She caught his eye and he smiled reassuringly at her. "Don't worry, miss," he said. "You're safe with us."
I'm safe with Jack, she thought, but smiled back anyway.
"Jack!" a woman's voice called. Rose turned round as far as she could and saw a beautiful Japanese woman at a desk with five or six enormous computer screens, staring at one of them with concern on her face. "We've got another one. This one looks alien-maybe a Weevil."
"You and Owen handle it," he said, never breaking stride. "I've got to get Rose settled."
"Oi," Rose said, with an attempt at a light tone. "You gonna introduce me, or you just gonna carry me half-naked past all these people?" She was very aware that his arm was holding the bottom hem of her hospital gown tight against her thighs, and equally aware what a show the whole lot of them would get if it slipped. She was just trying very hard not to think about it.
Jack stopped and looked at her, flushing slightly. "Oh," he said. "Yeah. Sorry." He turned back around so she could see the four people arrayed in something of a semicircle, looking at her. "Rose Tyler, this is Toshiko Sato-" The woman nodded, with a polite smile. "-Owen Harper-"
"Doctor Owen Harper," he corrected.
"Gwen Cooper, you've met-" Gwen nodded, with that same broad smile she'd had earlier. "-and Ianto Jones." Ianto, too, nodded politely. "Gwen," Jack went on, "why don't you just drop the bags over here by the entrance to my quarters, and you go with Tosh and Owen? I don't want to take any chances."
"Tosh and I can handle one Weevil," Owen protested, picking something up off his desk and examining it before sticking it in his coat pocket. Rose realised with a bit of a shock that it was a gun-a proper gun, with bullets and all, not a sonic blaster.
"I'm not taking the chance that there's more than one. All three of you go."
Owen rolled his eyes, but Jack ignored him, just turned and continued walking with Rose. Gwen jogged behind with the bags, but to Rose's surprise, she went through a glass door and into an office, ducked behind a desk-Jack's desk? It must be-and dropped them by a sort of manhole entrance. She held the door open for Jack to bring Rose through, and then she flashed a grin at the two of them and was off, following Toshiko and Owen. Even more surprising, Jack set Rose on her feet next to the manhole, hanging onto her until he was sure her legs could support her weight. "I'm going to go on down the ladder," he said. "You sit on the edge and I'll lift you down, okay?"
"You sleep in a hole in the ground?" she asked.
That deadly grin again, the one she remembered. "Yep. Just think how long I've waited to get you into my bedroom."
She flushed bright red, but managed to shoot back, "Really? I thought you were after the Doctor."
He laughed, kissing her forehead before starting down the ladder. Trust Jack to turn everything into a flirtation. It was reassuring-at least he hadn't changed that much. "Okay," he said from below, "I'm ready whenever you are."
She sat down carefully, dangling her legs through the circular hole and looking at Jack. He seemed an awfully long way down. "You sure about this?"
"Positive. I've got you, Rose, don't worry."
All right. She trusted him. She took a deep breath and leant forward, grabbing hold of the far side of the hole before letting herself slide down. Just as her fingers caught her weight at the edge, she felt Jack's big hands at her waist, supporting her. "Gotcha," he said, and she let go to allow him to bring her safely down the rest of the way. "All right?" he asked once she was on her feet again.
"Yeah." She looked around. His room was surprisingly bare, almost monastic: a single camp bed, a few bookshelves, a lamp or two, a chair. There was a room off to the side that Rose assumed must be the loo. The only decorations were photographs, most of them from the '40s, judging by the hairstyles and clothing. Not quite what she'd have expected of Jack's room. In fact, nothing at all like what she'd have expected. It was a bit disturbing. If this was her dream, shouldn't his room look like the one he'd had on the TARDIS-big bed, lots of pillows, more than a little hedonistic?
Jack didn't seem to notice her surprise; he was already moving, turning on the light in the bathroom, pulling out towels for her. "The hot water's really hot," he warned. "And the taps are finicky. Are you sure you're all right to shower by yourself? I'd run you a bath, but I haven't got a bathtub."
She grinned at him, deciding he deserved a bit of his own back. "Gettin' me into your bedroom's not enough, you have to shower with me as well?"
He laughed. "Saw right through me," he said with a matching grin, but then sobered. "Seriously, Rose, I don't know how you're feeling now, but you were awfully weak when we found you last night. I just want to be sure you're safe in there."
"You could always wait in here so you can come running if I slip," she offered. Honestly, the idea of showering with Jack wasn't unpleasant-it never had been-but until she worked out a little more about how she'd got here and why, she wasn't inclined to take chances. If indeed, she was here, and not in some sort of dream.
But if it is a dream, does it really matter?
"Oh, I'd planned to, anyway. Hang on." He climbed halfway back up the ladder, grabbed the shopping bags, and came back down. "Here are your clothes; you can dress in there when you're done." The smirk again. "Unless you need help with that too."
"Perv," she said good-naturedly, but instead of taking the shopping, she stepped toward him and slid her arms around his torso, laying her cheek against his chest. He let the bags drop and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly to him and resting his head against hers. She sighed, closing her eyes. "It's so good to see you, Jack," she said quietly. "So good to be back with you."
"Same here," he said softly. "I missed you, Rose."
There was a long moment of comfortable silence while they held each other, just revelling in being together again. At last Rose's stomach growled again, loudly, and they both laughed as they separated. "S'pose I'd better get showered so we can eat," Rose said.
"Yeah. Ianto will be back soon. Though, knowing him, he'll telepathically sense exactly when we're coming back up and will walk in with piping hot food just in the nick of time."
Rose had bent to pick up the shopping bags; now she froze and glanced up at him. "Telepathically?" Like the Doctor?
"Just kidding," Jack reassured her. "He's got very good timing, that's all."
"Oh, okay." She stood back up, bags in hand, and headed for the loo, but a question-the question that had been nagging her since she'd woken up to find Jack there-was still in the back of her mind, and she had to know. She turned back to look at him. "Jack," she said a little nervously, "do you know-I mean-have you seen-I mean…does the Doctor know you're alive?"
Jack closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. "I don't know, Rose," he said quietly. "I haven't seen him since Satellite Five."
"Oh," she repeated. Disappointment welled up in her, though she knew she shouldn't have hoped. "Okay." Cheeks flaming, she was grateful to be able to shut the bathroom door behind her.
Shower. Shower shower shower. She felt grimy-not with dirt (though she seemed to remember being much dirtier than this-had that doctor, what's-his-name, Owen, washed her? She hoped not) but with memories. And guilt. All those months she'd travelled with the Doctor after he'd regenerated, and they'd never gone back for Jack. She'd asked, and the Doctor had refused to talk about him, and she'd dropped the subject. She should have asked some more. She should have pushed. She should have insisted. After all, this was Jack.
She sighed and untied the strings on her hospital gown, letting it fall to the floor behind her as she reached up to pull the elastic from her hair. Half-turning to open the shower door, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and stopped dead, staring in horror.
She was all but skeletal. Her hips and ribs were clearly visible beneath her skin; her collarbones stood out prominently; her hands were thin and bony. She raised her fingers to her cheeks, felt the way her skin stretched over her skull. She had to have lost close to twenty pounds.
But how?
I can't have been lost that long, she thought, unable to drag her eyes away from her reflection. Can I? No food, no water, for long enough to lose all this weight…?
But she couldn't die. She didn't age. And there was no way for her to judge how long she'd been lost in the darkness. Could it really have been that long? Weeks? Months? More?
"What's happened to me?" she whispered, staring at the gaunt stranger before her. Her eyes filled with tears. "Doctor, what's happened to me?"
***
Rose took longer in the shower than he had anticipated-in fact, he had to stop himself twice from knocking on the door to be sure she was all right. She came out eventually, hair damp and hanging to her shoulders, face bare of any makeup, wearing the clothes Gwen had bought: a blue-and-white striped cotton shirt, jeans, a belt, and white trainers. Gwen had good taste, and a good eye for size; they were a reasonably close fit, though still hung a little loosely on her too-thin frame.
God, she was beautiful.
Her smile seemed hesitant and he wondered how much she was holding back from him. How 'okay' was okay, really? How much had she been through? How much more could she handle before she broke? This wasn't the strong, resilient Rose he'd known. This Rose was much more fragile, and it frightened him.
Shoving his questions aside, he smiled back. "Ready for some breakfast? I'd bet Ianto's shown up with the take-aways by now."
"Yeah, I'm starved." She still had the bags in hand with the second set of clothing; she hefted them questioningly. "Okay to leave these here?"
"Of course." She set them aside out of the way, and he said, "D'you think you can handle the ladder alone?"
She eyed it contemplatively. "I think so," she said. "Not positive, but I think so."
"I'll be right behind you, just in case. Don't worry, I can catch you."
"Yeah, not surprising just now, is it?" she said, mostly under her breath, but before he could ask her what she meant, she put her foot on the bottom rung and started climbing. Swiftly, he moved beneath her to spot her in case she fell. She moved slowly, but got up the rungs without incident and pulled herself out of the circular hole. "Okay," she called down.
He followed, swinging off the ladder to hold out a hand to her. "Let's go see if Ianto's back."
The light at the main door began flashing as they came out into the rest of the Hub, and the door rolled to one side. Tosh entered backwards, gun drawn as she led in two shackled, bound Weevils. Owen and Gwen followed, their own guns trained on the two aliens. Frowning, Jack let go Rose's hand and put his arm in front of her, gently pushing her back so he was between her and the Weevils. "Why are you coming in this way?" he asked.
"Closer," Owen gritted. "Faster. Easier to get a bit of backup. These two are bloody dangerous. They cornered a kid and were about to kill him when we got there. He ran away before we could check on him or retcon him. You want to open the door to the cells so we don't have to look away?"
"Stay here," Jack said quietly to Rose, drawing his gun. Carefully, he edged sideways around Tosh toward the metal door down to the cell block and opened it, standing well out of the way and with his gun pointed at the left-hand Weevil, knowing if the right-hand one made the wrong move, he could have his weapon trained on it in a heartbeat. "All right, door's open. Come on through."
Tosh took another step backward, but her heel caught the edge of a cord and she wavered, off-balance. Instinctively, Jack moved to catch her, and that was all the excuse the Weevils needed. Both of them roared their defiance and swung around, knocking Gwen and Owen's guns out of their hands and head-butting them. Both humans fell to the ground and instantly, the aliens were running despite their hands being shackled behind their backs. Jack brought his gun up and fired, once, twice. The bullets ricocheted off the wall and the Weevils changed course, away from the door and toward-
Oh, God, no, please-
-toward Rose, who froze, petrified with fear as the sharp-toothed aliens came straight for her. Jack swore and ran. He didn't dare fire; he might hit her. "Rose, get down!" he yelled. "Drop to the floor!"
But before she could unfreeze her muscles to obey, both Weevils skidded to a stop about five feet away, staring at her. Their roars of anger subsided to quieter chirps and cries, almost whimpers. Rose didn't move, just stared at them with her heart in her eyes, clearly terrified.
And the Weevils began to back away.
Slowly, as though she were a predator they didn't want to anger, the Weevils moved away from Rose, crouching submissively, making small, clearly fear-laden noises. Jack got between them and Rose, gun pointed at them, but they completely ignored him; just backed up until they were against the wall and huddled there, mewling pitifully.
"What're they doing?" Owen asked in disbelief. Tosh and Gwen were staring as well.
Jack let his gun hand drop to his side, though he didn't quite dare holster it yet. "I don't know," he said. "Just get them the hell out of here."
The Weevils went meekly this time, looking over their shoulders at Rose as they went. She stood there watching them, her expression filled with a mixture of confusion and fear and other things Jack couldn't begin to describe. Once the others had got the Weevils down into the cell area, he finally re-holstered his weapon and turned to Rose, taking her hands. "You all right?" he asked.
"Yeah," she breathed, still staring at the door through which they'd disappeared. She paused, shook her head, and looked up at him properly, meeting his eyes. "Yeah. I'm all right." She blew out a breath and looked back toward where they'd gone. "What were those things?"
"Aliens that we get a lot of here, through the Rift. We call them Weevils. No idea what they call themselves, or even if they have language; they seem to be a fairly primitive lot. They don't usually give us that much trouble, though. Or show up in pairs." He cupped her cheek with his hand, guiding her gaze back to him. "You sure you're okay? That had to be terrifying."
"Yeah, I'm sure." Her eyes were deep, dark, unfathomable. "But why'd they back away? What did I do? Did I scare them off or something?"
He shook his head. "Nothing that I know of can actually scare a Weevil. I've never seen one back down like that. I don't know what happened." But I'm damn well going to find out, he thought grimly. He wasn't sure he liked where this was headed. "Come on," he said. "Let's see if Ianto's brought your breakfast."