We Could Be Heroes 11/30
Title: We Could Be Heroes 11/30
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, John/Nick, Gwen/Rhys
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, John Hart and a cast of (probably!) thousands.
Spoilers: Set after Exit Wounds. Sequel to 'Will My Arms Be Strong Enough?'
Rating: Adult - it's going to get very dark in some places.
Warnings: Slash, language, angst, dark themes.
Summary: What's happened to Nick? Is he alive and safe?
Disclaimer: I'm a student. I don't own Torchwood.
The Master List (as it stands) is here: anduria-trianys.livejournal.com/27610.html#cutid1
~PART TWO~
Chapter 11
Time seemed to have stopped. Everywhere he walked, the landscape was the same. There was no way of knowing if he had walked around here before, if he was going in circles or not. The wind was cold and the sky was grey and thick mist whipped through the wind blowing through the thin man’s wild mass of red hair as it flew about his face.
He didn’t know how long he’d been wherever he was. All he knew was that he’d woken up face down on the coarse ground and since then he had been walking around trying to find his way out of this place. A trickle of blood ran down his face and he cursed that the small First Aid kit he would usually carry around was nowhere to be seen.
Even worse, he couldn’t see anyone around. There was no sign of his partner who had been beside him when they had set out, and no sign of anyone else. At the same time, however, he was sure he could smell something on the freezing winds. His gut instinct was telling him that walking into the unknown without a weapon (his gun had also been lost, much to his annoyance) was a very stupid thing to do. Despite this, however, he felt that he could defend himself physically without weapons if he had to and whoever was there might be his only hope of rescue from wherever he was. If he found them, he might also learn what had happened to his lover.
Quickly, he took a deep breath and searched the scent on the wind, much as he had seen a bloodhound do so when it caught the scent of a fox. To his surprise, however, he found that the person - or people - seemed to be behind him, as if they were tailing him. Shrugging to himself, he turned on his tail and made his way back the way he had come. But he had barely moved a few metres when a firm hand gripped his wrist and he looked up to see a tall man with a hard face and black hair flecked with iron grey watching him under imposing eyebrows. Another figure, this one a woman, stood beside him, her face equally cold.
She nodded to her partner. “Take him.”
The young redhead’s eyes widened. “Take me?” he repeated. “Take me where?” he cried out, trying to struggle against the vice-like grips. “Answer me! I know my rights!”
The man laughed; a cruel laugh which sent shivers down the spine of everyone who heard it. “Tell us who you are and how you came here…and then we’ll see about rights.”
The youngest of the trio swallowed hard as he fought back his fear. “My name is Nick Jones,” he stammered. “I came here…through…through a Rift in twenty-first century Cardiff with my…my lover.” He shuddered. “Did you see him? Is he here?”
“There is no one else here.” This time it was the woman who spoke, her monotone voice cutting through the air. “You have been alone here for two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” It had felt like far more time than that had passed.
She nodded. “We have been tracking you for two weeks, Nick Jones, if that is your real name-"
“Which I doubt it is,” interrupted the man, his fingers tightening on Nick’s wrist. “But, regardless of that for now, we tracked you so that you would not be a…danger to others.” He licked his lips. “As for rights…you have the right to remain silent.
Nick’s jaw dropped. “How could I be a danger?!” he exclaimed. “I’m just -” But his voice trailed off when he caught sight of something on the man’s wrist. He turned to look at the woman’s arm and his jaw dropped when he caught sight of the matching brown leather strap adorning her wrist…the brown leather strap that was so like one he had seen before.
“You’re Time Agents!” he cried out, shock coursing through him. “But…I thought the Time Agency had been closed down!”
The minute he said those words, the air around him seemed to freeze over. Then, the man spoke again. “Well, it would appear that you have been…misinformed,” he drawled softly.
“Orion!” the woman said sharply and began to speak in a different language that Nick couldn’t understand. The man - Orion - spat out something that could only have been a curse and started walking faster, his eyebrows knitting together like storm clouds.
Nick winced in pain. “But…but you can help me!” he cried, almost pleading. “You can help me find my partner and…and he can tell you why I’m here and -”
But he got no further. The woman interrupted him. “As my partner said - you have the right to remain silent.”
~*~
At just under six foot tall, Nick knew he was no slouch in the height department, but somehow being amongst so many people who were clearly warriors in their own right made him feel like an ant cowering under a rock. Some of the men and women there were clearly younger than he was, but most of them looked like hardened war veterans, even a fresh-faced youth with dark skin. The fact that they were all staring and whispering as he passed didn’t help and it was even worse that he couldn’t understand a word they were saying.
He hadn’t paid any attention to where he was being taken until he became aware that his two captors had stopped moving and that his wrists had been freed. Then, he had looked around and realised that he was stood in the middle of what looked like a large cloakroom where several men and women were talking amongst themselves as they sorted through piles of clothing. As he looked at the various shirt colours - among them red, blue, green and yellow - Nick couldn’t hold back a tiny chuckle, despite his situation. The colours, as well as the different logos on the front of the shirts, made him feel as if he had just walked into an episode of Star Trek. There’s my inner geek shining through, he thought to himself.
“These might feel strange at first, but you’ll get used to them.”
Snapped out of his musings, Nick jumped and turned around to see that Orion had picked up some handfuls of black clothes and was now passing them over to him. “You’ll have to get used to them, anyway,” he added.
Nick shifted slightly; the fabric did not look uncomfortable, but the sudden change of attitude from the older man certainly was. “What do I need them for?” he asked. “I’m not even going to train as a Time Agent.” He looked around. “Am I?” he asked.
“Maybe you are, and maybe you’re not,” answered Orion cryptically, which only served to heighten Nick’s frustration. “But you need to at least appear to fit in, if you’re going to get through this alive and save your lover from wherever he may be. There are places around here that aren’t especially trusting when it comes to foreigners and the Time Agency is one of them. The only reason no one questioned your appearance was because you were with me.”
“But I’m not a foreigner!” exclaimed Nick. And yet, even as he spoke, he felt a sharp pang in his stomach when he realised that he wasn’t at home either. Equally, as baffled as he was by Orion’s sudden change in attitude towards him, he realised that he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, or do something that might make him change his mind again. So, dropping his eyes with a small groan, he nodded and started to leave - and then promptly realised something else. “Er, where am I supposed to go now?” he asked rather pointedly.
Orion turned around, a momentary look of surprise on his face. “Oh. Right of course.” He paused to think for a moment and then nodded. He turned round and called out something that Nick could only assume was a command. A minute later, a sullen-faced man with messy black hair, rather harsh brown eyes and a slightly pinched face arrived. He wore black trousers and a dark green shirt with the insignia of a white wolf’s head stencilled on the left breast. He nodded to Orion and the pair spoke, though Nick could understand little except that the other man appeared to be named Shani, though he had no way of knowing if this was his real name or an alias. The two men conversed for a moment before the younger man nodded stiffly and, with an even more sour expression on his face, he grabbed Nick’s arm and led him down the corridor.
“Hey!” protested Nick, trying to wriggle out of the firm grip. “I can walk perfectly well, if you don’t mind!” He finally managed to pull his arm away and gave Shani an incredulous look. “Do you lot treat all your new recruits like this?” he asked.
Shani looked at him, but his expression was now completely neutral. “Only the ones we have no reason to trust,” he replied in a cool voice.
Nick’s eyes widened. “You’ve got no reason not to trust me,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm and hide his frustration. “I didn’t plan to end up here. I didn’t actually plan to end up anywhere.”
He received a snort in response. “That’s what they always say, those so-called drifters through time,” replied Shani and gripped Nick’s arm in a tighter hold than before as he half dragged him onwards. “And then the next thing you know, you’re preparing for a war because that ‘drifter’ went and…” He muttered something under his breath that Nick couldn’t understand, but the gist of it seemed to be that the ‘drifter’ (or drifters) in question had then betrayed them. In light of that, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that people were a bit twitchy, or that they didn’t trust him. But it didn’t make it any less annoying; after all, he was innocent as far as that went.
They eventually stopped outside a door which opened when Shani ran his wrist over a keypad beside it. He led Nick into a small room with two single beds, each covered by a faded duvet and including two large pillows. “Seemingly, I’m to share my room with you,” he grunted, nodding towards the bed beside the window, which had clearly not been slept in. “So, I’ll be laying down -”
“You don’t need to lay anything down,” interrupted Nick as he sat down on the empty bed. “I’ll leave you alone and you can leave me alone. I’m not going to spontaneously blow anything up.”
An emotion that may have been surprise flickered over Shani’s face as the words echoed through the small room. “I’m watching you,” he said, but the words didn’t have the irritation to them that his previous comments had and he looked rather unsettled if anything. “If there’s even one hint that you’re…” but the words failed him. “Am I clear?”
Nick nodded. “Inescapably.”
Again, the response seemed to surprise the other man, because he worked his jaw silently once again before finally leaving with little more than a gruff nod before the door closed behind him.
Once the sound of his new roommate’s footsteps had completely faded, Nick lay back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling, idly counting the white clusters of specks on the blue background. He could only assume they were meant to represent the night sky, although it didn’t resemble any version of the night sky he knew. In fact, it looked more like one of the paintings Trevyn used to bring home from nursery school than of something seen from a telescope.
He laughed softly at the thought of the day he had picked his son up from nursery school when it had been pouring with rain. Rather than go straight home, Nick had noticed how much the little boy had giggled and clapped at the sight of the rain and had brought their wellingtons along in the back of his car and taken them both out for a ‘puddle walk’. They had spent a happy half an hour running in and out of puddles and splashing each other until Nick’s hair was so wet that it had plastered itself all over his face. John - for this had been a recent memory - had almost killed himself laughing when he’d seen them.
“Couldn’t wait to get me out of those trousers either,” he mused, absently picking at a thread on his ripped old jeans. Funny, though; I never did get that big patch -”
He stopped abruptly as a bleeping noise derailed him from his musings and looked around wildly as he tried to work out what he might have set off. There were several strange gadgets dotted around the room, but as far as he could tell, they all looked the same as they had when he had entered the room with Shani.
It was only then that he realised that the sound was coming from himself and, looking down, he saw a faint light flickering underneath the sleeve of his jacket. Quickly, he rolled it up and his eyes widened as he realised that one of the buttons on John’s vortex manipulator was flashing. Frowning, he pressed it - and almost fell off the bed in shock when a hologram of his lover appeared before him, frowning slightly, apparently confused.
“Is this thing on?” he asked, tapping something on his arm, presumably the wrist strap. “Ah, there we go.” He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Okay…I’m no good at these things, these - well, I presume that you’ve guessed what this message is. Yes, it’s one of those horribly clichéd ‘If you’re hearing this, I’m dead’ things. Not something I thought I’d be doing personally, but hey, times change. Things change. People change.”
He was silent for a moment. “Well, to cut to the chase - Nick, if you’re hearing this, then it’s best to presume that I am dead. I did some tinkering around so that this wrist strap would bond with you and recognise you as its owner if anything should happen to me. You’re also the only one who can trigger this message - it answers to your voice saying a certain word - so I think I can be certain that it’s you who’s listening to it.”
There was another pause. “Nick, I…I don’t do long sentimental goodbyes, so I’ll say now that…well, we were good together. We were really good together. I can’t lie and say that we had enough time together, because with you, there’s never enough time. But I am glad we made the most of whatever time we had.” He cleared his throat. “There isn’t much left for me to say and certainly nothing that you don’t already know, being a Jones and all. So, to that end, and to finish on a famous line,” and he cleared his throat again. “So long, and thanks for all the fish.”
As the hologram faded, the wrist strap slipped out of Nick’s hand and hit the floor quietly. At the same time, he could dimly hear the sound of what sounded like an ancient radio playing long lost music from somewhere down the corridor. Slowly, Nick stood up and went to listen - and froze in his tracks, his heart almost stopping as he did so. The music wasn’t ancient and it certainly hadn’t been lost. In fact it was part of a song that he knew very well.
“I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky.
And one by one they disappear.
I wish that I was flying with them.
Now you're not here.
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me.
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away…”
The voices faded away and the words trailed off, but Nick didn’t need to hear the rest of the song to recognise it; ‘The War of the Worlds’ had been one of his favourite science fiction books as a child and he had adored the music for as long as he could remember. He had been able to sing the lyrics to that particular song word perfectly (albeit not pitch perfectly) since he was eleven.
It had always touched his heart in some way, but now, so soon after hearing his lover’s last words, Nick felt chilled to his very core by them. It was true; he really did wish he was flying away and disappearing into the mist outside the window. At least then he wouldn’t feel as lost and alone as he did now.
As he stood up and looked out of the window, Nick realised that the coldness he was feeling was not simply inside him, but was also coming from something around his neck. Slowly, he reached out and brought out the necklace that John had given him, glancing down at the black circle of Pizrra stone hanging off the black leather strap. He started in shock; not only did the stone feel icy cold to his touch, but the ribbons of silver which had become such a part of the stone had disappeared without a trace. He shivered; somehow, even the pendant was aware that John had gone…as if it was sensing the loss.
At that moment, a surge of white-hot pain ripped through Nick’s body, and made him sink onto the ground. Before he knew what was happening, his face was buried in his hands and hot tears were flowing through his fingers and soaking the fine leather chain. He pressed the stone briefly to his lips as he collapsed in a heap and curled up in a ball, gripping it tightly in his hand as the sobs wracked their way through his body.
He didn’t know how long he lay on the floor, but when he finally stood up, the first thing that he became aware of wasn’t the throbbing pain in his head or the dry itching in his eyes. Instead, it was the dark red glow from the setting sun that infused the room. Startled, he wiped his cheeks and looked out of the window at the area below him, cut off by a thick forest of trees on one side and a range of formidable snow-covered mountains on the other side. Beyond them, he could dimly see a stretch of glistening water, though he had no idea whether it was sea or a river, or even just a stream. It was beautiful, but there was something very dangerous about it all, something which was reinforced by the sight of several groups of people outside on the grass below his room. It looked like they were simply playing a game, but even that looked almost regimented, as if in preparation for something.
At that moment, a revelation shot its way through Nick’s grief-fogged mind. What was going on below…the harsh landscape…this wasn’t just a game. What he saw were preparations; preparations for battle if they were attacked or called out at any time to any place. These men and women had to be prepared for anything if they were going to survive. The thought made him shiver, half in fright and half in realisation of what he had to do.
Bending down, Nick picked up John’s vortex manipulator and, ignoring the pang in his chest, strapped it to his wrist before he made his way out of the room and back down to the hall he had passed through earlier. It took him mere minutes to pick out Orion’s heavy eyes in the crowd and he made a beeline for him.
The other man looked up at him. “Yes?”
Nick took a deep breath and gently stroked the leather band on his wrist as he spoke.
“I’m in.”
***
Next Time: A training session brings something strange to light about the Time Agency’s unwilling new recruit.
Pairings: Jack/Ianto, John/Nick, Gwen/Rhys
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, John Hart and a cast of (probably!) thousands.
Spoilers: Set after Exit Wounds. Sequel to 'Will My Arms Be Strong Enough?'
Rating: Adult - it's going to get very dark in some places.
Warnings: Slash, language, angst, dark themes.
Summary: What's happened to Nick? Is he alive and safe?
Disclaimer: I'm a student. I don't own Torchwood.
The Master List (as it stands) is here: anduria-trianys.livejournal.com/27610.html#cutid1
~PART TWO~
Chapter 11
Time seemed to have stopped. Everywhere he walked, the landscape was the same. There was no way of knowing if he had walked around here before, if he was going in circles or not. The wind was cold and the sky was grey and thick mist whipped through the wind blowing through the thin man’s wild mass of red hair as it flew about his face.
He didn’t know how long he’d been wherever he was. All he knew was that he’d woken up face down on the coarse ground and since then he had been walking around trying to find his way out of this place. A trickle of blood ran down his face and he cursed that the small First Aid kit he would usually carry around was nowhere to be seen.
Even worse, he couldn’t see anyone around. There was no sign of his partner who had been beside him when they had set out, and no sign of anyone else. At the same time, however, he was sure he could smell something on the freezing winds. His gut instinct was telling him that walking into the unknown without a weapon (his gun had also been lost, much to his annoyance) was a very stupid thing to do. Despite this, however, he felt that he could defend himself physically without weapons if he had to and whoever was there might be his only hope of rescue from wherever he was. If he found them, he might also learn what had happened to his lover.
Quickly, he took a deep breath and searched the scent on the wind, much as he had seen a bloodhound do so when it caught the scent of a fox. To his surprise, however, he found that the person - or people - seemed to be behind him, as if they were tailing him. Shrugging to himself, he turned on his tail and made his way back the way he had come. But he had barely moved a few metres when a firm hand gripped his wrist and he looked up to see a tall man with a hard face and black hair flecked with iron grey watching him under imposing eyebrows. Another figure, this one a woman, stood beside him, her face equally cold.
She nodded to her partner. “Take him.”
The young redhead’s eyes widened. “Take me?” he repeated. “Take me where?” he cried out, trying to struggle against the vice-like grips. “Answer me! I know my rights!”
The man laughed; a cruel laugh which sent shivers down the spine of everyone who heard it. “Tell us who you are and how you came here…and then we’ll see about rights.”
The youngest of the trio swallowed hard as he fought back his fear. “My name is Nick Jones,” he stammered. “I came here…through…through a Rift in twenty-first century Cardiff with my…my lover.” He shuddered. “Did you see him? Is he here?”
“There is no one else here.” This time it was the woman who spoke, her monotone voice cutting through the air. “You have been alone here for two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” It had felt like far more time than that had passed.
She nodded. “We have been tracking you for two weeks, Nick Jones, if that is your real name-"
“Which I doubt it is,” interrupted the man, his fingers tightening on Nick’s wrist. “But, regardless of that for now, we tracked you so that you would not be a…danger to others.” He licked his lips. “As for rights…you have the right to remain silent.
Nick’s jaw dropped. “How could I be a danger?!” he exclaimed. “I’m just -” But his voice trailed off when he caught sight of something on the man’s wrist. He turned to look at the woman’s arm and his jaw dropped when he caught sight of the matching brown leather strap adorning her wrist…the brown leather strap that was so like one he had seen before.
“You’re Time Agents!” he cried out, shock coursing through him. “But…I thought the Time Agency had been closed down!”
The minute he said those words, the air around him seemed to freeze over. Then, the man spoke again. “Well, it would appear that you have been…misinformed,” he drawled softly.
“Orion!” the woman said sharply and began to speak in a different language that Nick couldn’t understand. The man - Orion - spat out something that could only have been a curse and started walking faster, his eyebrows knitting together like storm clouds.
Nick winced in pain. “But…but you can help me!” he cried, almost pleading. “You can help me find my partner and…and he can tell you why I’m here and -”
But he got no further. The woman interrupted him. “As my partner said - you have the right to remain silent.”
~*~
At just under six foot tall, Nick knew he was no slouch in the height department, but somehow being amongst so many people who were clearly warriors in their own right made him feel like an ant cowering under a rock. Some of the men and women there were clearly younger than he was, but most of them looked like hardened war veterans, even a fresh-faced youth with dark skin. The fact that they were all staring and whispering as he passed didn’t help and it was even worse that he couldn’t understand a word they were saying.
He hadn’t paid any attention to where he was being taken until he became aware that his two captors had stopped moving and that his wrists had been freed. Then, he had looked around and realised that he was stood in the middle of what looked like a large cloakroom where several men and women were talking amongst themselves as they sorted through piles of clothing. As he looked at the various shirt colours - among them red, blue, green and yellow - Nick couldn’t hold back a tiny chuckle, despite his situation. The colours, as well as the different logos on the front of the shirts, made him feel as if he had just walked into an episode of Star Trek. There’s my inner geek shining through, he thought to himself.
“These might feel strange at first, but you’ll get used to them.”
Snapped out of his musings, Nick jumped and turned around to see that Orion had picked up some handfuls of black clothes and was now passing them over to him. “You’ll have to get used to them, anyway,” he added.
Nick shifted slightly; the fabric did not look uncomfortable, but the sudden change of attitude from the older man certainly was. “What do I need them for?” he asked. “I’m not even going to train as a Time Agent.” He looked around. “Am I?” he asked.
“Maybe you are, and maybe you’re not,” answered Orion cryptically, which only served to heighten Nick’s frustration. “But you need to at least appear to fit in, if you’re going to get through this alive and save your lover from wherever he may be. There are places around here that aren’t especially trusting when it comes to foreigners and the Time Agency is one of them. The only reason no one questioned your appearance was because you were with me.”
“But I’m not a foreigner!” exclaimed Nick. And yet, even as he spoke, he felt a sharp pang in his stomach when he realised that he wasn’t at home either. Equally, as baffled as he was by Orion’s sudden change in attitude towards him, he realised that he didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, or do something that might make him change his mind again. So, dropping his eyes with a small groan, he nodded and started to leave - and then promptly realised something else. “Er, where am I supposed to go now?” he asked rather pointedly.
Orion turned around, a momentary look of surprise on his face. “Oh. Right of course.” He paused to think for a moment and then nodded. He turned round and called out something that Nick could only assume was a command. A minute later, a sullen-faced man with messy black hair, rather harsh brown eyes and a slightly pinched face arrived. He wore black trousers and a dark green shirt with the insignia of a white wolf’s head stencilled on the left breast. He nodded to Orion and the pair spoke, though Nick could understand little except that the other man appeared to be named Shani, though he had no way of knowing if this was his real name or an alias. The two men conversed for a moment before the younger man nodded stiffly and, with an even more sour expression on his face, he grabbed Nick’s arm and led him down the corridor.
“Hey!” protested Nick, trying to wriggle out of the firm grip. “I can walk perfectly well, if you don’t mind!” He finally managed to pull his arm away and gave Shani an incredulous look. “Do you lot treat all your new recruits like this?” he asked.
Shani looked at him, but his expression was now completely neutral. “Only the ones we have no reason to trust,” he replied in a cool voice.
Nick’s eyes widened. “You’ve got no reason not to trust me,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm and hide his frustration. “I didn’t plan to end up here. I didn’t actually plan to end up anywhere.”
He received a snort in response. “That’s what they always say, those so-called drifters through time,” replied Shani and gripped Nick’s arm in a tighter hold than before as he half dragged him onwards. “And then the next thing you know, you’re preparing for a war because that ‘drifter’ went and…” He muttered something under his breath that Nick couldn’t understand, but the gist of it seemed to be that the ‘drifter’ (or drifters) in question had then betrayed them. In light of that, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that people were a bit twitchy, or that they didn’t trust him. But it didn’t make it any less annoying; after all, he was innocent as far as that went.
They eventually stopped outside a door which opened when Shani ran his wrist over a keypad beside it. He led Nick into a small room with two single beds, each covered by a faded duvet and including two large pillows. “Seemingly, I’m to share my room with you,” he grunted, nodding towards the bed beside the window, which had clearly not been slept in. “So, I’ll be laying down -”
“You don’t need to lay anything down,” interrupted Nick as he sat down on the empty bed. “I’ll leave you alone and you can leave me alone. I’m not going to spontaneously blow anything up.”
An emotion that may have been surprise flickered over Shani’s face as the words echoed through the small room. “I’m watching you,” he said, but the words didn’t have the irritation to them that his previous comments had and he looked rather unsettled if anything. “If there’s even one hint that you’re…” but the words failed him. “Am I clear?”
Nick nodded. “Inescapably.”
Again, the response seemed to surprise the other man, because he worked his jaw silently once again before finally leaving with little more than a gruff nod before the door closed behind him.
Once the sound of his new roommate’s footsteps had completely faded, Nick lay back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling, idly counting the white clusters of specks on the blue background. He could only assume they were meant to represent the night sky, although it didn’t resemble any version of the night sky he knew. In fact, it looked more like one of the paintings Trevyn used to bring home from nursery school than of something seen from a telescope.
He laughed softly at the thought of the day he had picked his son up from nursery school when it had been pouring with rain. Rather than go straight home, Nick had noticed how much the little boy had giggled and clapped at the sight of the rain and had brought their wellingtons along in the back of his car and taken them both out for a ‘puddle walk’. They had spent a happy half an hour running in and out of puddles and splashing each other until Nick’s hair was so wet that it had plastered itself all over his face. John - for this had been a recent memory - had almost killed himself laughing when he’d seen them.
“Couldn’t wait to get me out of those trousers either,” he mused, absently picking at a thread on his ripped old jeans. Funny, though; I never did get that big patch -”
He stopped abruptly as a bleeping noise derailed him from his musings and looked around wildly as he tried to work out what he might have set off. There were several strange gadgets dotted around the room, but as far as he could tell, they all looked the same as they had when he had entered the room with Shani.
It was only then that he realised that the sound was coming from himself and, looking down, he saw a faint light flickering underneath the sleeve of his jacket. Quickly, he rolled it up and his eyes widened as he realised that one of the buttons on John’s vortex manipulator was flashing. Frowning, he pressed it - and almost fell off the bed in shock when a hologram of his lover appeared before him, frowning slightly, apparently confused.
“Is this thing on?” he asked, tapping something on his arm, presumably the wrist strap. “Ah, there we go.” He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Okay…I’m no good at these things, these - well, I presume that you’ve guessed what this message is. Yes, it’s one of those horribly clichéd ‘If you’re hearing this, I’m dead’ things. Not something I thought I’d be doing personally, but hey, times change. Things change. People change.”
He was silent for a moment. “Well, to cut to the chase - Nick, if you’re hearing this, then it’s best to presume that I am dead. I did some tinkering around so that this wrist strap would bond with you and recognise you as its owner if anything should happen to me. You’re also the only one who can trigger this message - it answers to your voice saying a certain word - so I think I can be certain that it’s you who’s listening to it.”
There was another pause. “Nick, I…I don’t do long sentimental goodbyes, so I’ll say now that…well, we were good together. We were really good together. I can’t lie and say that we had enough time together, because with you, there’s never enough time. But I am glad we made the most of whatever time we had.” He cleared his throat. “There isn’t much left for me to say and certainly nothing that you don’t already know, being a Jones and all. So, to that end, and to finish on a famous line,” and he cleared his throat again. “So long, and thanks for all the fish.”
As the hologram faded, the wrist strap slipped out of Nick’s hand and hit the floor quietly. At the same time, he could dimly hear the sound of what sounded like an ancient radio playing long lost music from somewhere down the corridor. Slowly, Nick stood up and went to listen - and froze in his tracks, his heart almost stopping as he did so. The music wasn’t ancient and it certainly hadn’t been lost. In fact it was part of a song that he knew very well.
“I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky.
And one by one they disappear.
I wish that I was flying with them.
Now you're not here.
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me.
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away…”
The voices faded away and the words trailed off, but Nick didn’t need to hear the rest of the song to recognise it; ‘The War of the Worlds’ had been one of his favourite science fiction books as a child and he had adored the music for as long as he could remember. He had been able to sing the lyrics to that particular song word perfectly (albeit not pitch perfectly) since he was eleven.
It had always touched his heart in some way, but now, so soon after hearing his lover’s last words, Nick felt chilled to his very core by them. It was true; he really did wish he was flying away and disappearing into the mist outside the window. At least then he wouldn’t feel as lost and alone as he did now.
As he stood up and looked out of the window, Nick realised that the coldness he was feeling was not simply inside him, but was also coming from something around his neck. Slowly, he reached out and brought out the necklace that John had given him, glancing down at the black circle of Pizrra stone hanging off the black leather strap. He started in shock; not only did the stone feel icy cold to his touch, but the ribbons of silver which had become such a part of the stone had disappeared without a trace. He shivered; somehow, even the pendant was aware that John had gone…as if it was sensing the loss.
At that moment, a surge of white-hot pain ripped through Nick’s body, and made him sink onto the ground. Before he knew what was happening, his face was buried in his hands and hot tears were flowing through his fingers and soaking the fine leather chain. He pressed the stone briefly to his lips as he collapsed in a heap and curled up in a ball, gripping it tightly in his hand as the sobs wracked their way through his body.
He didn’t know how long he lay on the floor, but when he finally stood up, the first thing that he became aware of wasn’t the throbbing pain in his head or the dry itching in his eyes. Instead, it was the dark red glow from the setting sun that infused the room. Startled, he wiped his cheeks and looked out of the window at the area below him, cut off by a thick forest of trees on one side and a range of formidable snow-covered mountains on the other side. Beyond them, he could dimly see a stretch of glistening water, though he had no idea whether it was sea or a river, or even just a stream. It was beautiful, but there was something very dangerous about it all, something which was reinforced by the sight of several groups of people outside on the grass below his room. It looked like they were simply playing a game, but even that looked almost regimented, as if in preparation for something.
At that moment, a revelation shot its way through Nick’s grief-fogged mind. What was going on below…the harsh landscape…this wasn’t just a game. What he saw were preparations; preparations for battle if they were attacked or called out at any time to any place. These men and women had to be prepared for anything if they were going to survive. The thought made him shiver, half in fright and half in realisation of what he had to do.
Bending down, Nick picked up John’s vortex manipulator and, ignoring the pang in his chest, strapped it to his wrist before he made his way out of the room and back down to the hall he had passed through earlier. It took him mere minutes to pick out Orion’s heavy eyes in the crowd and he made a beeline for him.
The other man looked up at him. “Yes?”
Nick took a deep breath and gently stroked the leather band on his wrist as he spoke.
“I’m in.”
***
Next Time: A training session brings something strange to light about the Time Agency’s unwilling new recruit.