We Could Be Heroes 12/30
Title: We Could Be Heroes 12/30
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: Something new comes to light.
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
Chapter 12
The next day…
It was barely dawn when Nick felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him and heard a voice hissing in his ear, spitting words that he did not understand. Nonetheless, he grunted and forced his eyes open, to be faced by the stern visage of his room mate - Shani, his brain helpfully supplied for him - who was glowering at him and chastising him, presumably about being late to get up.
Looking out of the window, Nick groaned when he saw that the sun had hardly risen and was instead merely beginning to stain the clouds pink. “What time is it?” he mumbled, momentarily forgetting that Shani could not understand what he was saying. Vaguely, he wondered if anyone around here would understand him, or if he sounded as incomprehensible to them as the writings of Chaucer had been to him in school. At any rate, the only response he received to his question was Shani twittering impatiently at him before shocking him out of his wits by dumping a bowlful of ice-cold water over his head.
“Jesus Christ!” he yelped as he fell off the bed and onto the floor. “I’ve heard of wake-up calls, but I would have just settled for you pulling the covers off me, you know!” With a glare, he pulled himself up off the floor and wrung out his wet hair. Only then did he realise that, not only was he about to get dressed in front of a complete stranger, but also that, due to having decided against sleeping in his only pair of boxer shorts, he was stark naked.
“Would you mind…just turning away for a moment?” he asked, very conscious that his face was heating up as he turned his head a little, just enough to make brief eye contact with his room mate. However, he couldn’t be sure, but he thought that he saw a flicker of something like carnal appreciation in Shani’s eyes before he stiffened and turned away to face the wall, though not without a mutter of something that probably meant “Seen it all before.”
Mortified, and more than slightly unsettled, Nick pulled his boxers back on - mentally resolving to ask about a laundrette and some clothes shops as he did so - and then picked up the clothes he’d been given the night before. He pulled the short-sleeved black T-shirt over his head and started in shock as the fabric stiffened and then shrunk, until the shirt fit him exactly. The same happened when he fastened his trousers, and again with the shoes. He stifled a giggle at the thought of what his father would say if he could see them. Self-fitting clothes would mean the end of having to use those awful tape measures!
Firmly clamping down on any sadness that thought brought with the laughter, Nick turned towards the mirror so he could tie his hair back. But before he did, Shani came up and, his face completely expressionless, passed him his glasses. “Don’t forget these,” he grunted.
Nick’s mouth fell open again. “You can speak my language?!” he spluttered as he put his glasses on. He couldn’t decide whether to be relieved that someone could understand him or angry that they’d let him think they couldn’t - something which was tantamount to lying in his mind.
“No.” Shani gripped Nick’s wrist and indicated John’s vortex manipulator. “This is translating what I say to you. I can’t understand your language any more than you can mine. But this can.”
Nick looked at him and blinked several times. “But why is it only doing it now?”
“I don’t know. It might be a time delay or something.”
Nick suddenly remembered that he had understood what Orion and the other woman who had found him had been saying to him the previous day (apart from a brief moment where the woman had spoken in an incomprehensible language). He decided, however, that the chances of Shani actually knowing why this was were slim and decided not to mention it and simply said, “So this works like the TARDIS would work for the Doctor?”
A hard expression flickered over Shani’s face. “In a manner of speaking,” he agreed tersely. “But if, as you seem to have said, you aren’t a Time Agent, how did you get it?”
Nick pulled his wrist away. “My…partner was one,” he said stiffly. “We were separated on our…journey and I can only imagine that his wrist strap somehow bonded with me when he died.” He didn’t feel like going any further into the matter with this man. The message he had received from John was still too fresh in his mind. Instead, he turned back to the mirror and hastily tied his hair back in a messy ponytail. “So, where are we going?”
~*~
Orion was waiting in the hallway when Nick and Shani came down the stairs. Nick looked annoyed - presumably at the early hour - but alert. He must have had experience with early rising before this, though that clearly didn’t mean that he had to like it. Next to him, Shani wore his usual scowl, though something unusual flashed through his eyes occasionally when he glanced towards the red-haired man.
Shrugging, Orion clapped his hands together and made his way towards the two young men. “Good morning,” he said, chuckling when Nick gave him an incredulous look. “Ah, I take it you’re not a morning person, then.”
“Oh, I don’t mind early mornings,” answered Nick as politely as he could. “I’m used to them - I have to be in my line of work back home. But I’m just not exactly enraptured at being woken up by an ice-cold shower!” He glared at Shani, who looked entirely unrepentant.
“Did he indeed?” Orion was still chuckling as he looked at the black-haired Time Agent. “Well, it’s good to see that you’re getting yourself a sense of humour, Shani. Although last time I checked, ice-cold showers were meant to calm you down, not get you up.” He winked heavily and Shani scowled, muttering something about simply doing what was necessary. Nick groaned, not only at the incredibly bad innuendo, but also at the notion that clearly, his presence, which the previous night had been a cause of intense suspicion, was now incredibly amusing. My God, he thought, if this is what the Time Agency’s like, it’s sure as hell gone downhill since Jack and John had been around. He didn’t even entertain the thought that his lover and friend might actually be here. That was too headache-inducing so early in the morning.
Orion clapped his hands together. “Well, we mustn’t linger here,” he said. “There is a great deal of work for us to do yet. Shani, you must go the training department at once and summon Nergal.” He looked at Nick. “You are serious about your desire to train as a Time Agent?”
“I am,” replied Nick. “I don’t know how I ended up here and I don’t know why. But I do know that I owe it to my…friends and my family to survive in any way I can.” While he had known, ever since joining Torchwood that he would die young, but now that he had ended up alive after his and John’s ‘save the universe plan’ had evidently gone hopelessly awry somehow, he would fight to survive and get to somewhere where he would hopefully be given some answers as to why things had gone wrong.
There was a long pause as Orion studied him as if he was scanning him for any hint of a lie. He was frowning slightly, but what he saw must have satisfied him, because he eventually looked up and nodded approvingly. “Then, you must be trained accordingly.” He turned back to Shani and spoke further with him, causing the younger man to bow stiffly and leave down another one of the flights of stairs. “Come with me,” he said to Nick then and swept off down the hallway and up yet another flight of stairs.
Barely having time to look around and wonder what the signs pointing to the various stairways and passages read, Nick sprinted to catch up. He couldn’t help chuckling at the look of shock that crossed Orion’s face when he did catch up with him. “I’m not a ghost, you know,” he remarked.
“Never said you were,” Orion replied simply.
“Sorry; it’s just you were looking at me -”
“Like I’d seen a ghost?” Orion laughed out loud. “No, boy, I’ve seen ghosts and you are assuredly not one. I was merely impressed by your running speed.”
Nick decided to ignore the comment about seeing ghosts and started to explain about how he enjoyed athletics. However, he had barely gotten a word out when he became aware of something tickling his arm. Turning around, he was shocked to see Orion’s nose running down to his elbow, his eyes narrowed in thought. Horrified, Nick pulled his arm away. “What are you doing?!”
Orion nodded. “Born towards the latter end of the twentieth century, but you came here from the early twenty-first century,” he said. “You have those typical pheromones. Faint, but distinctive.”
Dimly, Nick recalled John’s distinctive scent that he called his ‘fifty-first century pheromones’ and the way he would wind him up about them, just as Ianto did with Jack. He also registered, for the first time, a similar scent surrounding him, growing stronger the closer he came to anyone. That must have been what the time travellers had meant.
“Well…as impressive as that is, I’m not exactly used to having people sniffing me!” he exclaimed. “If you wanted to know where - or when - I was from, why not just ask?”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” Orion shook his head. “That would be extremely disrespectful. Only the Agency’s leader may ask such questions.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
A bitter laugh greeted that statement. “Of course it doesn’t. This whole place doesn’t make much sense. Dealing with time itself never does make sense.” At that moment, he produced an old-fashioned pocket watch from his pocket and cursed. “Come, or we will be late.”
As they ran through the corridor, Nick could just see the older man typing something into what looked like a futuristic version of a PDA. At first, he couldn’t read it, but when he cautiously raised the vortex manipulator towards it, he could barely hold back a laugh.
The note read ‘Don’t sniff people from the 21st century.’
~*~
The pair eventually stopped outside a pair of large silver doors framed by a silver arch with what looked like runes and strange words engraved into it. Nick pointed at it. “What does that say?” he asked, his wrist strap having decided to refuse to translate it.
“No one knows,” answered Orion indifferently. He touched his wrist strap against the side and the door hissed open. “All we know is that I’ve just shown you how to open the door. I doubt even Cipactli herself knows what it means.”
“Who’s Cipactli?” asked Nick as he hurried to keep up with the older man. “Is she another Time Agent?”
“She’s more than just that,” answered Orion without turning. “She’s the leader of the Agency.”
“You mean -” but Nick quickly caught himself, realising that what he was thinking would probably not be appreciated.
“Yes, we have a woman in charge.” Orion turned around and speared Nick with a glare. “Does that bother you?”
“No!” exclaimed Nick, mortified to have caused offence. “It’s just…well, just not necessarily that common where - I mean, when - I come from. I can’t say I’ve actually ever worked in an organisation that’s been led by a woman.” He bit his lip. “But, hey…I mean, I think it’s great that you’ve got her in charge; nice show of…equal rights…” He trailed off when he realised that Orion had moved on. Cursing, he picked up his pace, silently resolving to keep quiet - or at least to watch his tongue - for the time being.
After several minutes, and even more long corridors, Orion stopped again. He had covered his head with a white shawl and passed another one to Nick. “You always cover your head before visiting the Sage,” he said. “It’s a mark of respect, you see.”
“What?” Nick was derailed from his examination of the corridor. “I thought…we were going to see your leader.”
“Normally, we would. But these circumstances are different.” Orion paused. “You see, when you arrived yesterday, something strange happened; something we can’t explain.” He grasped Nick’s hand and closed his eyes. “There’s something about you that hasn’t been seen for many years, but I for one can’t place it.” He dropped Nick’s hand. “When the Sage noticed this, he summoned us to his chambers with great haste, so that you could be…” he chewed for the word, “analysed.”
Nick scowled; the use of the word ‘analysed’ made him feel rather like a lab experiment. “I’m sure there’s nothing odd about me at all,” he said frostily. “And if there is, it’s probably just something to do with me coming from the twenty-first century.”
Orion raised an eyebrow at him. “You must speak slower,” he said. “Your accent sometimes makes your words very hard to understand and you must see that such a thing can make you appear alien and therefore suspicious.”
There it was again; that mistrust that had been so present last night, but hardly there this morning. With a pang of sorrow at once again being vilified for something he had no control over, Nick realised that he should have known that the new friendlier attitude was too good to be true. “At least I have an accent to be proud of,” he muttered tensely, only then realising that no one whom he had heard speak had the faintest hint of an inflection, or if they did, they hid it extremely well. Nonetheless, when he realised that his companion was walking on, he covered his head with the white scarf and followed him through the doors.
When the doors closed, he looked around and found himself in a low-ceilinged room, which, when the smoke from the stifling incense cleared, was decorated intricately with gold panels. Patterns were carved into the metal and framed by ribbons of blue and purple patterned fabric which put Nick in mind of a silk dress his sister had worn for a party once. Weird plants that looked like descendants of some of the stranger things he’d seen in the Hub hothouse - on the rare occasions he’d paused to take them in - were placed around the room in alcoves where windows would presumably have sat in older days. A low platform was in the middle of the room and covered with a red and gold cloth.
“Come forwards, human child.”
Nick started at the disembodied voice echoing through the room that seemed to come from another alcove where a small black statue of something - or someone - was seated. A white candle - mercifully unscented this time - was burning below it with a flame that, strangely, was purple with golden smoke.
Goes with the décor, I suppose, he thought to himself as he stepped forwards and nearly jumped out of his skin as he realised what the statue closely resembled. “Dear God, I’ve walked into some sort of twisted version of the Wizard of Oz crossed with Star Wars.” The small black statue did indeed bare an uncanny similarity to Darth Vader.
Instantly, the temperature in the room dropped and the hangings seemed to shake as the voice boomed out, “You dare to disrespect the sacred oracle?!” The candlelight flickered and some of them sputtered out. “Insolent boy!”
Shit, Nick thought. I forgot my own rule; watch my mouth so I don’t offend foreign - or future - cultures. Holding up his hands in the hope that the statue would understand him, he started stammering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…forgive me.” Panicking, he dropped onto his knees before the alcove and bent his head. “I didn’t mean any offence…I don’t know how I came to be here, but I just…I want to get home and I’ll do whatever I can to do that.”
There was a long pause. Then, slowly, and much to Nick’s relief, the temperature returned to normal and the candlelight stopped flickering. “You’re not from here,” echoed the voice again, clearly still threatening, but at the same time rather more quietly than before. “And I’d be careful of how you answer me, otherwise I might not be as lenient as I was before.”
Nick bit back the response he had in mind. “No,” he said, “I’m not from here.” Once again, he restrained himself from sarcastically asking what the giveaway was.
“Do you know who I am?” asked the voice.
“You’re,” but Nick quickly stopped and changed tack. “Are you…the Sage?”
A loud laugh filled the room then, causing the two occupants to jump in surprise. “Well, give the boy a medal, he’s finally guessed something correctly!” it crowed. Orion seemed to hastily turn a laugh into a quiet cough.
By this point, Nick was beginning to feel annoyed. And I’m accused of being insolent? Blimey, moods change at the speed of light around here.
“I think you’ll find that changing anything at the speed of light would be impossible. We’ve still not managed to crack that one,” said the voice.
Nick almost fell over in shock. Star’s End! Do I actually have to watch my thoughts here?!
“Yes.”
Fuck.
“No.”
Bloody hell!
“You might get there at some point.” The voice was clearly amused and Nick was finding it extremely hard not to think something deeply offensive.
Orion cut in at this point. “As stimulating as this whole conversation is, don’t we have a job to be getting on with?”
“Indeed we do.” The voice of the Sage seemed to pause. “Come forwards again, young man.”
If a disembodied voice could have eyes, Nick was sure they would have been focused on him. Slowly, he stepped up to the front and, without anyone asking him, almost as if he knew, he knelt on the platform, the fabric rustling softly beneath his knees. A moment later, he felt a great rush flowing through him; a wild heat burning through his limbs, wind whipping through his hair and an adrenaline rush that gave him a gloriously powerful feeling and he thought that this must be what invincibility felt like.
And then, it suddenly stopped. Nick felt the energy surge out of him like a bolt of lightning ripping through the sky. He gasped out loud and pitched forwards, nearly landing face first into the vibrant purple flame burning from the candle in front of him. Blinking heavily, he looked around, his breath coming out in ragged pants. “Woah…”
An amused chuckle echoed around the now silent room. “You felt it too?”
“Yeah, I felt it.” Nick sat up properly and straightened his glasses. “What was it?”
“It was the power that is inside you.” The answer made Nick blink in shock. “You have a power that has not been felt…for a very long time.”
Nick was about to ask what that power was, but then he felt the invisible eyes of the Sage move away from him and turn towards Orion. He didn’t listen to what was said between them, preferring instead to think about what this power he had could be. He stared at his fingers; could some immense force be hidden within his very hands? And if so, what could be strong enough that it could send such a shockwave through him and through the room?
After a while, he felt, or rather smelled, Orion’s presence behind him and felt his hand landing firmly on his shoulder. He didn’t speak, but merely led them back outside into the corridor and carried on walking down it without looking back. Nick ran to catch him up.
“What was that?” he asked. “What was that power within me?”
“I cannot say,” answered Orion in a gravelly voice. “I have a hunch, but there is no way of knowing for certain until you are properly trained.” He took something out of his pocket and swore. “But enough questions; Cipactli will be waiting for us.”
In the excitement over what had just happened, Nick had completely forgotten about the leader of the Time Agency. His heartbeat quickened, partly in anxiety and partly in anticipation of who such a powerful woman could be.
A guard intercepted them at yet another pair of silver doors. He spoke briefly with Orion and then, without much more preamble, grabbed Nick’s arm and half-dragged him through the doors, almost throwing him in the room so he landed on his knees and walking away without another word. The doors closed silently behind him
“Well, get up then.”
The brusque voice shocked Nick out of his annoyance at being dumped so unceremoniously and he scrambled to his feet and looked around to see who had spoken. His eyes eventually fell upon a tall woman with her back turned to him. She had long black hair securely fastened in several tight braids tied together at the back and with a simple crown of what looked like silver laurel leaves sitting firmly on top, denoting her rank and power. Unlike anyone Nick had seen before now, she was also wearing deep purple robes over a short black tunic and matching trousers which were light but at the same time exuded a sense of great power.
When she turned around, she revealed a long sword at her side with patterns on the scabbard that Nick couldn’t quite see. Her dark eyes glinted as she studied him and sat down and her expression was so hard and stern that Nick almost recoiled. She looked too much like one of his most loathed professors from university for him to be comfortable. Nonetheless, he knew better than to show fear or weakness. This woman did not look like someone who would tolerate that.
“So,” she said, still with the stern voice. “Sit down.” Nick did so automatically, barely even noticing that his feet had moved. “You have been to see the Sage, have you not?”
“Yes.” It was all Nick could do not to stand and salute her as he spoke. “He said that…there was a power within me.”
“Did he?” An eyebrow was raised and Nick flinched back as if he had been hit by an arrow. “Well, that is very interesting…but not relevant at this moment.” She picked up a device from her desk and looked up fixing him with a stern glare. “What is your name?”
Deciding that arguing with this woman would be a very bad idea indeed since she could probably beat him to a pulp with both hands tied behind her back, Nick answered her instantly. “Nicholas Gabriel Jones,” he said. “But everyone calls me Nick.”
She fixed him with a quelling glare. “And what is your age?”
“I’m twenty-five,” he answered. “In earth years,” he amended.
“When is your date of birth and what was your date and location of origin?”
“I was born on September 3rd, 1984,” Nick paused. “And…what do you mean by my date and location of origin?”
The eyebrow was raised again. “You came here from the 21st century.” It was a statement rather than a question and Nick nodded nervously. “When and where in that time frame did you arrive here from?”
“I left in March 2010. I came here through the Rift in time and space in Cardiff. That’s in Wales.” The expression he received in response instantly made him regret the last three words. “But…you know it’s in Wales,” he quickly added.
“Did you have a job before you departed?”
Nick winced at how the question was almost spat out. I really do have to control myself. “Yes,” he said. “I worked as a medical doctor in one of the city hospitals before,” he paused thoughtfully, “I was recruited as medical officer for Torchwood Three.” He deliberately drew out the last words; if the Rift was well known by this time, chances were Torchwood would be too.
To his slightly childish disappointment, however, the woman - Cipactli, he suddenly reminded himself - didn’t even react to the mention of the famous organisation. “So, you’re a medical doctor,” she said. “And you have experience in combat.”
“I do.” Nick allowed him a small thrill of satisfaction that she had at least acknowledged his background at Torchwood with that small fact.
She nodded. “Very well; you may leave. Orion will escort you to our training department and Nergal, the head of the fighting department, will analyse your abilities and from there we will be able to discern just how much…experience you have.”
Oh, you just wait, Nick thought.
~*~
One hour later…
Orion sat on a bench in the large hall, staring at one of the faded stained glass paintings in the windows. He was lost in thought about his new young charge; the man with the bright red hair and the strange power inside him…the power that had apparently not been seen for many years.
He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t curious about what that meant and what the force within him was and why it had suddenly come to light after being dormant for so long. Could it be that the young man was a descendant of a past or present Time Agent who had passed the gift on? He knew that such a thing was not usual, but then again, there was very little that was usual about the boy.
He was suddenly interrupted when Nergal, one of the training leaders, came rushing up to him, his clothes covered in sweat and his black hair messier than anyone had seen it in a long time.
“Master Orion!” he gasped, skidding to a halt in front of him. “I am with the new recruit…but I find that I cannot train him! His technique is already flawless - far beyond what that of a twenty-first century Torchwood operative should be.”
Orion jumped up. “Show me,” he commanded and followed the younger man down to the training area, where he could see the red-haired man, who had removed his shirt, armed with two large handguns which he was firing simultaneously at a troop of moving statues. On occasions, he would actually toss the guns aside and drop to the floor, rolling out of the way of the movers and dodging athletically, even as he kicked and punched at them, before executing a forwards roll and getting up.
Nergal was shaking. “You see?” he gasped.
Orion nodded. He certainly did see. The boy was far too good for someone who claimed to be a Torchwood operative. In fact, the only people he had seen who could fight in such a manner had been trained at the Time Agency. But that wasn’t all; there was something more about the style that was all too familiar to him.
Suddenly, Nergal gasped. “Look at his shoulder!” he cried. Sure enough, the young man’s red hair had swung in front of his face revealing an elaborate design tattooed on his shoulder blade.
Orion’s eyes widened as he saw the black and white yin and yang symbol with a dragon on each side with the flames surrounding them shimmering like stars. “But he’s not a Time Agent,” he gasped. “I identified him myself…he’s from the twenty-first century!”
“I know,” replied Nergal. “And while tattoos were common at that time, it is less common to have them suddenly change.” He turned to a woman beside him who passed him a picture, showing a different design. “This is a twenty-first century Chinese dragon design,” he said. “It is also the same design that our friend’s tattoo was originally…and there’s no sign that he’s changed it. He was shocked when he saw the pattern that it had changed to. But no one here can explain it.”
The door opened before anyone else could speak and Nick came outside again, wrapping his shirt around his shoulders. He nodded politely before pulling it on, but not before he noticed an expression of shock on the faces of the two men who had greeted him.
“It can’t be!” exclaimed Nergal, his eyes wide.
Orion nodded. “I think it might be,” he said. “I must go.” With another intense stare at Nick, he raced out of the room and back down the corridor towards the leader’s office. Without knocking this time, he burst straight into Cipactli’s office and gripped the desk, breathing hard.
“He has the necklace!” he panted. “He has the necklace of Pizrra stone…that belonged to…him.”
She looked up at that. “Are you sure?”
“I’m certain. I saw it with my own eyes just now.” Orion knew exactly what he had seen; he would have known that necklace anywhere. “Cipactli - he told me that his partner was a former Time Agent who trained him in how to fight and defend himself. I just saw him fight; his movements are exactly like what we saw with Phoenix.”
He paused for breath. “He’s powerful, more powerful than I realised at first. If he is told about what happened…and that we were responsible…he could be -”
“We don’t tell him.” Cipactli’s voice turned very cold. “He cannot find out, ever. It would be bad enough that he knows that his partner was lied to, but to find out that we were involved would be catastrophic.”
Orion agreed. “So, what do we do?”
***
Next Time: Nick receives an unexpected gift, but with the new information about him, what has the Time Agency decided to do about him?
The picture I based the Sage's room on is here: i303.photobucket.com/albums/nn142/Anduria-Trianys/Round%20The%20World/DSCF0396.jpg
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: Something new comes to light.
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
Chapter 12
The next day…
It was barely dawn when Nick felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him and heard a voice hissing in his ear, spitting words that he did not understand. Nonetheless, he grunted and forced his eyes open, to be faced by the stern visage of his room mate - Shani, his brain helpfully supplied for him - who was glowering at him and chastising him, presumably about being late to get up.
Looking out of the window, Nick groaned when he saw that the sun had hardly risen and was instead merely beginning to stain the clouds pink. “What time is it?” he mumbled, momentarily forgetting that Shani could not understand what he was saying. Vaguely, he wondered if anyone around here would understand him, or if he sounded as incomprehensible to them as the writings of Chaucer had been to him in school. At any rate, the only response he received to his question was Shani twittering impatiently at him before shocking him out of his wits by dumping a bowlful of ice-cold water over his head.
“Jesus Christ!” he yelped as he fell off the bed and onto the floor. “I’ve heard of wake-up calls, but I would have just settled for you pulling the covers off me, you know!” With a glare, he pulled himself up off the floor and wrung out his wet hair. Only then did he realise that, not only was he about to get dressed in front of a complete stranger, but also that, due to having decided against sleeping in his only pair of boxer shorts, he was stark naked.
“Would you mind…just turning away for a moment?” he asked, very conscious that his face was heating up as he turned his head a little, just enough to make brief eye contact with his room mate. However, he couldn’t be sure, but he thought that he saw a flicker of something like carnal appreciation in Shani’s eyes before he stiffened and turned away to face the wall, though not without a mutter of something that probably meant “Seen it all before.”
Mortified, and more than slightly unsettled, Nick pulled his boxers back on - mentally resolving to ask about a laundrette and some clothes shops as he did so - and then picked up the clothes he’d been given the night before. He pulled the short-sleeved black T-shirt over his head and started in shock as the fabric stiffened and then shrunk, until the shirt fit him exactly. The same happened when he fastened his trousers, and again with the shoes. He stifled a giggle at the thought of what his father would say if he could see them. Self-fitting clothes would mean the end of having to use those awful tape measures!
Firmly clamping down on any sadness that thought brought with the laughter, Nick turned towards the mirror so he could tie his hair back. But before he did, Shani came up and, his face completely expressionless, passed him his glasses. “Don’t forget these,” he grunted.
Nick’s mouth fell open again. “You can speak my language?!” he spluttered as he put his glasses on. He couldn’t decide whether to be relieved that someone could understand him or angry that they’d let him think they couldn’t - something which was tantamount to lying in his mind.
“No.” Shani gripped Nick’s wrist and indicated John’s vortex manipulator. “This is translating what I say to you. I can’t understand your language any more than you can mine. But this can.”
Nick looked at him and blinked several times. “But why is it only doing it now?”
“I don’t know. It might be a time delay or something.”
Nick suddenly remembered that he had understood what Orion and the other woman who had found him had been saying to him the previous day (apart from a brief moment where the woman had spoken in an incomprehensible language). He decided, however, that the chances of Shani actually knowing why this was were slim and decided not to mention it and simply said, “So this works like the TARDIS would work for the Doctor?”
A hard expression flickered over Shani’s face. “In a manner of speaking,” he agreed tersely. “But if, as you seem to have said, you aren’t a Time Agent, how did you get it?”
Nick pulled his wrist away. “My…partner was one,” he said stiffly. “We were separated on our…journey and I can only imagine that his wrist strap somehow bonded with me when he died.” He didn’t feel like going any further into the matter with this man. The message he had received from John was still too fresh in his mind. Instead, he turned back to the mirror and hastily tied his hair back in a messy ponytail. “So, where are we going?”
~*~
Orion was waiting in the hallway when Nick and Shani came down the stairs. Nick looked annoyed - presumably at the early hour - but alert. He must have had experience with early rising before this, though that clearly didn’t mean that he had to like it. Next to him, Shani wore his usual scowl, though something unusual flashed through his eyes occasionally when he glanced towards the red-haired man.
Shrugging, Orion clapped his hands together and made his way towards the two young men. “Good morning,” he said, chuckling when Nick gave him an incredulous look. “Ah, I take it you’re not a morning person, then.”
“Oh, I don’t mind early mornings,” answered Nick as politely as he could. “I’m used to them - I have to be in my line of work back home. But I’m just not exactly enraptured at being woken up by an ice-cold shower!” He glared at Shani, who looked entirely unrepentant.
“Did he indeed?” Orion was still chuckling as he looked at the black-haired Time Agent. “Well, it’s good to see that you’re getting yourself a sense of humour, Shani. Although last time I checked, ice-cold showers were meant to calm you down, not get you up.” He winked heavily and Shani scowled, muttering something about simply doing what was necessary. Nick groaned, not only at the incredibly bad innuendo, but also at the notion that clearly, his presence, which the previous night had been a cause of intense suspicion, was now incredibly amusing. My God, he thought, if this is what the Time Agency’s like, it’s sure as hell gone downhill since Jack and John had been around. He didn’t even entertain the thought that his lover and friend might actually be here. That was too headache-inducing so early in the morning.
Orion clapped his hands together. “Well, we mustn’t linger here,” he said. “There is a great deal of work for us to do yet. Shani, you must go the training department at once and summon Nergal.” He looked at Nick. “You are serious about your desire to train as a Time Agent?”
“I am,” replied Nick. “I don’t know how I ended up here and I don’t know why. But I do know that I owe it to my…friends and my family to survive in any way I can.” While he had known, ever since joining Torchwood that he would die young, but now that he had ended up alive after his and John’s ‘save the universe plan’ had evidently gone hopelessly awry somehow, he would fight to survive and get to somewhere where he would hopefully be given some answers as to why things had gone wrong.
There was a long pause as Orion studied him as if he was scanning him for any hint of a lie. He was frowning slightly, but what he saw must have satisfied him, because he eventually looked up and nodded approvingly. “Then, you must be trained accordingly.” He turned back to Shani and spoke further with him, causing the younger man to bow stiffly and leave down another one of the flights of stairs. “Come with me,” he said to Nick then and swept off down the hallway and up yet another flight of stairs.
Barely having time to look around and wonder what the signs pointing to the various stairways and passages read, Nick sprinted to catch up. He couldn’t help chuckling at the look of shock that crossed Orion’s face when he did catch up with him. “I’m not a ghost, you know,” he remarked.
“Never said you were,” Orion replied simply.
“Sorry; it’s just you were looking at me -”
“Like I’d seen a ghost?” Orion laughed out loud. “No, boy, I’ve seen ghosts and you are assuredly not one. I was merely impressed by your running speed.”
Nick decided to ignore the comment about seeing ghosts and started to explain about how he enjoyed athletics. However, he had barely gotten a word out when he became aware of something tickling his arm. Turning around, he was shocked to see Orion’s nose running down to his elbow, his eyes narrowed in thought. Horrified, Nick pulled his arm away. “What are you doing?!”
Orion nodded. “Born towards the latter end of the twentieth century, but you came here from the early twenty-first century,” he said. “You have those typical pheromones. Faint, but distinctive.”
Dimly, Nick recalled John’s distinctive scent that he called his ‘fifty-first century pheromones’ and the way he would wind him up about them, just as Ianto did with Jack. He also registered, for the first time, a similar scent surrounding him, growing stronger the closer he came to anyone. That must have been what the time travellers had meant.
“Well…as impressive as that is, I’m not exactly used to having people sniffing me!” he exclaimed. “If you wanted to know where - or when - I was from, why not just ask?”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” Orion shook his head. “That would be extremely disrespectful. Only the Agency’s leader may ask such questions.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
A bitter laugh greeted that statement. “Of course it doesn’t. This whole place doesn’t make much sense. Dealing with time itself never does make sense.” At that moment, he produced an old-fashioned pocket watch from his pocket and cursed. “Come, or we will be late.”
As they ran through the corridor, Nick could just see the older man typing something into what looked like a futuristic version of a PDA. At first, he couldn’t read it, but when he cautiously raised the vortex manipulator towards it, he could barely hold back a laugh.
The note read ‘Don’t sniff people from the 21st century.’
~*~
The pair eventually stopped outside a pair of large silver doors framed by a silver arch with what looked like runes and strange words engraved into it. Nick pointed at it. “What does that say?” he asked, his wrist strap having decided to refuse to translate it.
“No one knows,” answered Orion indifferently. He touched his wrist strap against the side and the door hissed open. “All we know is that I’ve just shown you how to open the door. I doubt even Cipactli herself knows what it means.”
“Who’s Cipactli?” asked Nick as he hurried to keep up with the older man. “Is she another Time Agent?”
“She’s more than just that,” answered Orion without turning. “She’s the leader of the Agency.”
“You mean -” but Nick quickly caught himself, realising that what he was thinking would probably not be appreciated.
“Yes, we have a woman in charge.” Orion turned around and speared Nick with a glare. “Does that bother you?”
“No!” exclaimed Nick, mortified to have caused offence. “It’s just…well, just not necessarily that common where - I mean, when - I come from. I can’t say I’ve actually ever worked in an organisation that’s been led by a woman.” He bit his lip. “But, hey…I mean, I think it’s great that you’ve got her in charge; nice show of…equal rights…” He trailed off when he realised that Orion had moved on. Cursing, he picked up his pace, silently resolving to keep quiet - or at least to watch his tongue - for the time being.
After several minutes, and even more long corridors, Orion stopped again. He had covered his head with a white shawl and passed another one to Nick. “You always cover your head before visiting the Sage,” he said. “It’s a mark of respect, you see.”
“What?” Nick was derailed from his examination of the corridor. “I thought…we were going to see your leader.”
“Normally, we would. But these circumstances are different.” Orion paused. “You see, when you arrived yesterday, something strange happened; something we can’t explain.” He grasped Nick’s hand and closed his eyes. “There’s something about you that hasn’t been seen for many years, but I for one can’t place it.” He dropped Nick’s hand. “When the Sage noticed this, he summoned us to his chambers with great haste, so that you could be…” he chewed for the word, “analysed.”
Nick scowled; the use of the word ‘analysed’ made him feel rather like a lab experiment. “I’m sure there’s nothing odd about me at all,” he said frostily. “And if there is, it’s probably just something to do with me coming from the twenty-first century.”
Orion raised an eyebrow at him. “You must speak slower,” he said. “Your accent sometimes makes your words very hard to understand and you must see that such a thing can make you appear alien and therefore suspicious.”
There it was again; that mistrust that had been so present last night, but hardly there this morning. With a pang of sorrow at once again being vilified for something he had no control over, Nick realised that he should have known that the new friendlier attitude was too good to be true. “At least I have an accent to be proud of,” he muttered tensely, only then realising that no one whom he had heard speak had the faintest hint of an inflection, or if they did, they hid it extremely well. Nonetheless, when he realised that his companion was walking on, he covered his head with the white scarf and followed him through the doors.
When the doors closed, he looked around and found himself in a low-ceilinged room, which, when the smoke from the stifling incense cleared, was decorated intricately with gold panels. Patterns were carved into the metal and framed by ribbons of blue and purple patterned fabric which put Nick in mind of a silk dress his sister had worn for a party once. Weird plants that looked like descendants of some of the stranger things he’d seen in the Hub hothouse - on the rare occasions he’d paused to take them in - were placed around the room in alcoves where windows would presumably have sat in older days. A low platform was in the middle of the room and covered with a red and gold cloth.
“Come forwards, human child.”
Nick started at the disembodied voice echoing through the room that seemed to come from another alcove where a small black statue of something - or someone - was seated. A white candle - mercifully unscented this time - was burning below it with a flame that, strangely, was purple with golden smoke.
Goes with the décor, I suppose, he thought to himself as he stepped forwards and nearly jumped out of his skin as he realised what the statue closely resembled. “Dear God, I’ve walked into some sort of twisted version of the Wizard of Oz crossed with Star Wars.” The small black statue did indeed bare an uncanny similarity to Darth Vader.
Instantly, the temperature in the room dropped and the hangings seemed to shake as the voice boomed out, “You dare to disrespect the sacred oracle?!” The candlelight flickered and some of them sputtered out. “Insolent boy!”
Shit, Nick thought. I forgot my own rule; watch my mouth so I don’t offend foreign - or future - cultures. Holding up his hands in the hope that the statue would understand him, he started stammering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…forgive me.” Panicking, he dropped onto his knees before the alcove and bent his head. “I didn’t mean any offence…I don’t know how I came to be here, but I just…I want to get home and I’ll do whatever I can to do that.”
There was a long pause. Then, slowly, and much to Nick’s relief, the temperature returned to normal and the candlelight stopped flickering. “You’re not from here,” echoed the voice again, clearly still threatening, but at the same time rather more quietly than before. “And I’d be careful of how you answer me, otherwise I might not be as lenient as I was before.”
Nick bit back the response he had in mind. “No,” he said, “I’m not from here.” Once again, he restrained himself from sarcastically asking what the giveaway was.
“Do you know who I am?” asked the voice.
“You’re,” but Nick quickly stopped and changed tack. “Are you…the Sage?”
A loud laugh filled the room then, causing the two occupants to jump in surprise. “Well, give the boy a medal, he’s finally guessed something correctly!” it crowed. Orion seemed to hastily turn a laugh into a quiet cough.
By this point, Nick was beginning to feel annoyed. And I’m accused of being insolent? Blimey, moods change at the speed of light around here.
“I think you’ll find that changing anything at the speed of light would be impossible. We’ve still not managed to crack that one,” said the voice.
Nick almost fell over in shock. Star’s End! Do I actually have to watch my thoughts here?!
“Yes.”
Fuck.
“No.”
Bloody hell!
“You might get there at some point.” The voice was clearly amused and Nick was finding it extremely hard not to think something deeply offensive.
Orion cut in at this point. “As stimulating as this whole conversation is, don’t we have a job to be getting on with?”
“Indeed we do.” The voice of the Sage seemed to pause. “Come forwards again, young man.”
If a disembodied voice could have eyes, Nick was sure they would have been focused on him. Slowly, he stepped up to the front and, without anyone asking him, almost as if he knew, he knelt on the platform, the fabric rustling softly beneath his knees. A moment later, he felt a great rush flowing through him; a wild heat burning through his limbs, wind whipping through his hair and an adrenaline rush that gave him a gloriously powerful feeling and he thought that this must be what invincibility felt like.
And then, it suddenly stopped. Nick felt the energy surge out of him like a bolt of lightning ripping through the sky. He gasped out loud and pitched forwards, nearly landing face first into the vibrant purple flame burning from the candle in front of him. Blinking heavily, he looked around, his breath coming out in ragged pants. “Woah…”
An amused chuckle echoed around the now silent room. “You felt it too?”
“Yeah, I felt it.” Nick sat up properly and straightened his glasses. “What was it?”
“It was the power that is inside you.” The answer made Nick blink in shock. “You have a power that has not been felt…for a very long time.”
Nick was about to ask what that power was, but then he felt the invisible eyes of the Sage move away from him and turn towards Orion. He didn’t listen to what was said between them, preferring instead to think about what this power he had could be. He stared at his fingers; could some immense force be hidden within his very hands? And if so, what could be strong enough that it could send such a shockwave through him and through the room?
After a while, he felt, or rather smelled, Orion’s presence behind him and felt his hand landing firmly on his shoulder. He didn’t speak, but merely led them back outside into the corridor and carried on walking down it without looking back. Nick ran to catch him up.
“What was that?” he asked. “What was that power within me?”
“I cannot say,” answered Orion in a gravelly voice. “I have a hunch, but there is no way of knowing for certain until you are properly trained.” He took something out of his pocket and swore. “But enough questions; Cipactli will be waiting for us.”
In the excitement over what had just happened, Nick had completely forgotten about the leader of the Time Agency. His heartbeat quickened, partly in anxiety and partly in anticipation of who such a powerful woman could be.
A guard intercepted them at yet another pair of silver doors. He spoke briefly with Orion and then, without much more preamble, grabbed Nick’s arm and half-dragged him through the doors, almost throwing him in the room so he landed on his knees and walking away without another word. The doors closed silently behind him
“Well, get up then.”
The brusque voice shocked Nick out of his annoyance at being dumped so unceremoniously and he scrambled to his feet and looked around to see who had spoken. His eyes eventually fell upon a tall woman with her back turned to him. She had long black hair securely fastened in several tight braids tied together at the back and with a simple crown of what looked like silver laurel leaves sitting firmly on top, denoting her rank and power. Unlike anyone Nick had seen before now, she was also wearing deep purple robes over a short black tunic and matching trousers which were light but at the same time exuded a sense of great power.
When she turned around, she revealed a long sword at her side with patterns on the scabbard that Nick couldn’t quite see. Her dark eyes glinted as she studied him and sat down and her expression was so hard and stern that Nick almost recoiled. She looked too much like one of his most loathed professors from university for him to be comfortable. Nonetheless, he knew better than to show fear or weakness. This woman did not look like someone who would tolerate that.
“So,” she said, still with the stern voice. “Sit down.” Nick did so automatically, barely even noticing that his feet had moved. “You have been to see the Sage, have you not?”
“Yes.” It was all Nick could do not to stand and salute her as he spoke. “He said that…there was a power within me.”
“Did he?” An eyebrow was raised and Nick flinched back as if he had been hit by an arrow. “Well, that is very interesting…but not relevant at this moment.” She picked up a device from her desk and looked up fixing him with a stern glare. “What is your name?”
Deciding that arguing with this woman would be a very bad idea indeed since she could probably beat him to a pulp with both hands tied behind her back, Nick answered her instantly. “Nicholas Gabriel Jones,” he said. “But everyone calls me Nick.”
She fixed him with a quelling glare. “And what is your age?”
“I’m twenty-five,” he answered. “In earth years,” he amended.
“When is your date of birth and what was your date and location of origin?”
“I was born on September 3rd, 1984,” Nick paused. “And…what do you mean by my date and location of origin?”
The eyebrow was raised again. “You came here from the 21st century.” It was a statement rather than a question and Nick nodded nervously. “When and where in that time frame did you arrive here from?”
“I left in March 2010. I came here through the Rift in time and space in Cardiff. That’s in Wales.” The expression he received in response instantly made him regret the last three words. “But…you know it’s in Wales,” he quickly added.
“Did you have a job before you departed?”
Nick winced at how the question was almost spat out. I really do have to control myself. “Yes,” he said. “I worked as a medical doctor in one of the city hospitals before,” he paused thoughtfully, “I was recruited as medical officer for Torchwood Three.” He deliberately drew out the last words; if the Rift was well known by this time, chances were Torchwood would be too.
To his slightly childish disappointment, however, the woman - Cipactli, he suddenly reminded himself - didn’t even react to the mention of the famous organisation. “So, you’re a medical doctor,” she said. “And you have experience in combat.”
“I do.” Nick allowed him a small thrill of satisfaction that she had at least acknowledged his background at Torchwood with that small fact.
She nodded. “Very well; you may leave. Orion will escort you to our training department and Nergal, the head of the fighting department, will analyse your abilities and from there we will be able to discern just how much…experience you have.”
Oh, you just wait, Nick thought.
~*~
One hour later…
Orion sat on a bench in the large hall, staring at one of the faded stained glass paintings in the windows. He was lost in thought about his new young charge; the man with the bright red hair and the strange power inside him…the power that had apparently not been seen for many years.
He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t curious about what that meant and what the force within him was and why it had suddenly come to light after being dormant for so long. Could it be that the young man was a descendant of a past or present Time Agent who had passed the gift on? He knew that such a thing was not usual, but then again, there was very little that was usual about the boy.
He was suddenly interrupted when Nergal, one of the training leaders, came rushing up to him, his clothes covered in sweat and his black hair messier than anyone had seen it in a long time.
“Master Orion!” he gasped, skidding to a halt in front of him. “I am with the new recruit…but I find that I cannot train him! His technique is already flawless - far beyond what that of a twenty-first century Torchwood operative should be.”
Orion jumped up. “Show me,” he commanded and followed the younger man down to the training area, where he could see the red-haired man, who had removed his shirt, armed with two large handguns which he was firing simultaneously at a troop of moving statues. On occasions, he would actually toss the guns aside and drop to the floor, rolling out of the way of the movers and dodging athletically, even as he kicked and punched at them, before executing a forwards roll and getting up.
Nergal was shaking. “You see?” he gasped.
Orion nodded. He certainly did see. The boy was far too good for someone who claimed to be a Torchwood operative. In fact, the only people he had seen who could fight in such a manner had been trained at the Time Agency. But that wasn’t all; there was something more about the style that was all too familiar to him.
Suddenly, Nergal gasped. “Look at his shoulder!” he cried. Sure enough, the young man’s red hair had swung in front of his face revealing an elaborate design tattooed on his shoulder blade.
Orion’s eyes widened as he saw the black and white yin and yang symbol with a dragon on each side with the flames surrounding them shimmering like stars. “But he’s not a Time Agent,” he gasped. “I identified him myself…he’s from the twenty-first century!”
“I know,” replied Nergal. “And while tattoos were common at that time, it is less common to have them suddenly change.” He turned to a woman beside him who passed him a picture, showing a different design. “This is a twenty-first century Chinese dragon design,” he said. “It is also the same design that our friend’s tattoo was originally…and there’s no sign that he’s changed it. He was shocked when he saw the pattern that it had changed to. But no one here can explain it.”
The door opened before anyone else could speak and Nick came outside again, wrapping his shirt around his shoulders. He nodded politely before pulling it on, but not before he noticed an expression of shock on the faces of the two men who had greeted him.
“It can’t be!” exclaimed Nergal, his eyes wide.
Orion nodded. “I think it might be,” he said. “I must go.” With another intense stare at Nick, he raced out of the room and back down the corridor towards the leader’s office. Without knocking this time, he burst straight into Cipactli’s office and gripped the desk, breathing hard.
“He has the necklace!” he panted. “He has the necklace of Pizrra stone…that belonged to…him.”
She looked up at that. “Are you sure?”
“I’m certain. I saw it with my own eyes just now.” Orion knew exactly what he had seen; he would have known that necklace anywhere. “Cipactli - he told me that his partner was a former Time Agent who trained him in how to fight and defend himself. I just saw him fight; his movements are exactly like what we saw with Phoenix.”
He paused for breath. “He’s powerful, more powerful than I realised at first. If he is told about what happened…and that we were responsible…he could be -”
“We don’t tell him.” Cipactli’s voice turned very cold. “He cannot find out, ever. It would be bad enough that he knows that his partner was lied to, but to find out that we were involved would be catastrophic.”
Orion agreed. “So, what do we do?”
***
Next Time: Nick receives an unexpected gift, but with the new information about him, what has the Time Agency decided to do about him?
The picture I based the Sage's room on is here: i303.photobucket.com/albums/nn142/Anduria-Trianys/Round%20The%20World/DSCF0396.jpg
