No one really wanted to involve Hart if they had a choice. ...They really didn't. Which is why Hart, Sam, and Sam's guardian angel are stepping past the police cordon now, looking - Sam can't help but note - absolutely nothing like anyone who ought to be dealing with bombs. But it's Chicago. Nothing ever makes sense here, so why should this?
Hart's got some sort of scanner in hand, one of the things he insisted on picking up before they left the TARDIS, and considering he's the one who might know how to disable the thing... Still, no weapons. No one is letting him go around armed.
"Nice of you to let me out of that box," Hart mutters, limping a little as he starts down a hallway. "Finally. Is that really all you're good for, Torchwood, finding people and locking th-"
"Shut up," Sam snaps. Hart's been going on for the entire time since Sam got him out of the room they'd locked him in the TARDIS, and Sam's patience is rapidly running out
( ... )
Mat, honestly, looks a bit surprised that Hart's speaking to him, and jumps a little. "Uh... W-well, he's really... not bad. When you're not... evil..."
Hart snorts a little. "Evil. When have I ever done anything evil?"
"You murdered a woman," Sam points out, growling a little, and Hart shrugs. Because that's not a big deal or anything.
"Once, and I think you all overreacted to that just a bit..." He turns a corner, and there's the bomb. Just sitting on the floor... waiting. He smirks a little and moves over to crouch down next to it, scanning it with the sonic device he picked up from the TARDIS. "He never did have any style with these things..."
"Do you think you can figure it out?" Sam asks, taking up a position a few steps from Hart, where he's got a clear view down the hallway in both directions. Hart glances up at him just long enough to give him a scornful look.
Mat, jumpy little (in a manner of speaking) thing that he is, is literally hovering directly behind Sam. Now that they're inside, he lets his wings out, and just... hovers.
And then bumps into Sam when he ends up hovering too closely.
"Um... Sorry, just a little nervous," he says apologetically.
There's a bit of a lag between hart beginning to tamper with the bomb and Thane teleporting in. This can be mostly attributed to Thane going FUCKING INSANE.
He doesn't quite teleport in to the right coordinates. He's in one of the actual halls outside the maintenance hall, rifle dragging after him, one hand on his forehead and muttering curses. This is not his day. This had better be the Doctor, the right one, on this bomb, had better be-
Sam's been listening closely for any sign of someone approaching, and he can hear... something down one of the adjoining halls, too indistinct to make out exactly what. He glances briefly to Hart, and then looks up to Mat, cocking his gun. "Keep an eye on him," he mutters, nodding to Hart, and starts off down the hall.
If it's Thane... Well. It probably is, but maybe he'll be able to stall him long enough for Hart to disarm the bomb, or for the delta wave to kick in...
"Fuck that," Mat replies, just as quietly, and very decisively places himself between Sam and the hallway. He's trembling, a little, but you'd have to be paying attention to notice.
If Thane's down that hallway, Mat's probably going to die. On the other hand, if Thane's down that hallway and he lets Sam go first, Sam's probably going to die, and then Mat will die as well. So he might as well go out doing his job and giving Sam a fighting chance, and not being completely useless for once.
He moves cautiously, but not too slowly, down the hall, and when he gets around a slight bend in the hall and sees Thane, it takes him barely any time at all before he curses and tries to dive out of the way, because he's pretty sure Thane's going to shoot.
Not that it matters. If he just keeps shaving through Torchwood's forces soon he won't have anyone to protect him. Soon Thane will have him, soon this will be done-
The hall isn't the best spot for large arms, and Thane tears his pistol out of its holster, aims a shot, and fires. The kid goes down - and oh, it's that kid, Little Sister's little shadow, and to hell with him, he's not important. his wrist device is still going off, there's someone still in there with the bomb, and he's got work to do.
Mat drops, and Sam jerks back a little, staring at him and he's not moving and he has no time to check on him, he just...
Sam whips around the corner, gun up and firing as he does. He knows he's going to get shot, knows there's no chance he won't, stupid and emotional and gut reaction, but if he can just get off a lucky shot, stall Thane just long enough for someone to end this...
Thane throws himself to the side as he sees motion, and-
Oh, there's Little Sister. And as it turns out Little Sister's aim is halfway decent, not that he was expecting to compensate for Thane dodging, and the bullet bites through Thane's shoulder.
And then it's over.
Thane's gun hand is up and squeezing off one round, and his aim is true, and the range is short, and it bites into Sam's chest before he has a chance to dodge or run.
Karu slipped past the police line - as an Angel of Death, you get good at slipping into places you're not supposed to be. She can feel death approaching like footsteps down the hall, and this close, this close nothing matters but catching that - not the fact that she may die, not the violence, not the bomb, nothing.
She darts forward as Thane's hand comes up, wings out, moving so fast that she might be the bullet, catching Sam's body and meeting his eyes in the instant between hit and death, and-
(It's one more pain, one more just like so many others, black and hot and deep-cutting, and she'll take it, she'll take it all so peace may be with him-)
She grits her teeth, hissing in. This is what she's here for. This is what she does.
Sam drops, not even registering that he's been caught. He feels the impact, but it doesn't hurt. It should hurt, he's been shot before, and this isn't-
Oh. Karu. That's what that look meant, and there's something, distant and muted, shock or anger or fear but it's less important now than the fact that there's darkness and dizziness and nothing closing in around him, and is this really it, what she's meant to ease him into? She could have told him.
And that, that's the link. That's the link severing.
It's the most excruciating pain Mat's ever felt, ten times worse than the bullet wound he received just seconds ago. If he had to imagine what being stretched on a rack, then stabbed with burning hot pokers, then having his skin flayed off of him, he'd choose that over this. This...
He's almost certain it's the feeling of his soul being ripped apart.
There are screams, almost inhuman, that he only half hears, and a dull throbbing altogether too close to his heart. He doesn't quite register that the screams are coming from him.
He's going to die. His last conscious thought is that Nate's never gonna forgive him for this.
Then it's too much, too much pain, too much loss. His mind falls apart at the seams, and his screams die as it all fades into blackness, leaving him still in a slowly-growing pool of white blood, mingling with red at the edges.
Thane's not stupid. He knows how this world works - insofar as anyone's told him, at least. Kid keels over after Little Sister goes down? Guardian Angel. Girl runs straight across the line of fire to the dying guy? Angel of Death. Neither of them really worry him. And neither of them are the ones still disarming the bomb.
He doesn't bother to kill the angel.
The door to the maintenance hallway is still open and he steps into it, and oh, if it isn't his old friend. He raises the gun to fire - should have done this earlier - and-
-except he is the thing he'd be fearing. There are no barriers, no one but himself and this, and the two of them are-
IT becomes I, THAT becomes THIS, the world shifts and twists because he's been watching it through the wrong eyes or he'd been wrong; not wrong, asleep; not asleep, dead, not dead, not this not who or what he was or what-
He hits the wall.
He hits the ground.
He (he thinks it's he) makes a noise he can only recognize as noise, feels his hands (whose is his?) clawing at his skull and there's too much in his mind, too many things or not enough people, hate and rage and horror and none of them agree and he's falling (hasn't he fallen?) hasn't he
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Hart's got some sort of scanner in hand, one of the things he insisted on picking up before they left the TARDIS, and considering he's the one who might know how to disable the thing... Still, no weapons. No one is letting him go around armed.
"Nice of you to let me out of that box," Hart mutters, limping a little as he starts down a hallway. "Finally. Is that really all you're good for, Torchwood, finding people and locking th-"
"Shut up," Sam snaps. Hart's been going on for the entire time since Sam got him out of the room they'd locked him in the TARDIS, and Sam's patience is rapidly running out ( ... )
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Yes, Mat. Way to be.
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"You murdered a woman," Sam points out, growling a little, and Hart shrugs. Because that's not a big deal or anything.
"Once, and I think you all overreacted to that just a bit..." He turns a corner, and there's the bomb. Just sitting on the floor... waiting. He smirks a little and moves over to crouch down next to it, scanning it with the sonic device he picked up from the TARDIS. "He never did have any style with these things..."
"Do you think you can figure it out?" Sam asks, taking up a position a few steps from Hart, where he's got a clear view down the hallway in both directions. Hart glances up at him just long enough to give him a scornful look.
"Please. I'm good with bombs."
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And then bumps into Sam when he ends up hovering too closely.
"Um... Sorry, just a little nervous," he says apologetically.
But he doesn't back off.
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He doesn't quite teleport in to the right coordinates. He's in one of the actual halls outside the maintenance hall, rifle dragging after him, one hand on his forehead and muttering curses. This is not his day. This had better be the Doctor, the right one, on this bomb, had better be-
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If it's Thane... Well. It probably is, but maybe he'll be able to stall him long enough for Hart to disarm the bomb, or for the delta wave to kick in...
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If Thane's down that hallway, Mat's probably going to die. On the other hand, if Thane's down that hallway and he lets Sam go first, Sam's probably going to die, and then Mat will die as well. So he might as well go out doing his job and giving Sam a fighting chance, and not being completely useless for once.
He moves cautiously, but not too slowly, down the hall, and when he gets around a slight bend in the hall and sees Thane, it takes him barely any time at all before he curses and tries to dive out of the way, because he's pretty sure Thane's going to shoot.
Fuck.
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Not that it matters. If he just keeps shaving through Torchwood's forces soon he won't have anyone to protect him. Soon Thane will have him, soon this will be done-
The hall isn't the best spot for large arms, and Thane tears his pistol out of its holster, aims a shot, and fires. The kid goes down - and oh, it's that kid, Little Sister's little shadow, and to hell with him, he's not important. his wrist device is still going off, there's someone still in there with the bomb, and he's got work to do.
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Sam whips around the corner, gun up and firing as he does. He knows he's going to get shot, knows there's no chance he won't, stupid and emotional and gut reaction, but if he can just get off a lucky shot, stall Thane just long enough for someone to end this...
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Oh, there's Little Sister. And as it turns out Little Sister's aim is halfway decent, not that he was expecting to compensate for Thane dodging, and the bullet bites through Thane's shoulder.
And then it's over.
Thane's gun hand is up and squeezing off one round, and his aim is true, and the range is short, and it bites into Sam's chest before he has a chance to dodge or run.
Heartshot. Perfect.
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Karu slipped past the police line - as an Angel of Death, you get good at slipping into places you're not supposed to be. She can feel death approaching like footsteps down the hall, and this close, this close nothing matters but catching that - not the fact that she may die, not the violence, not the bomb, nothing.
She darts forward as Thane's hand comes up, wings out, moving so fast that she might be the bullet, catching Sam's body and meeting his eyes in the instant between hit and death, and-
(It's one more pain, one more just like so many others, black and hot and deep-cutting, and she'll take it, she'll take it all so peace may be with him-)
She grits her teeth, hissing in. This is what she's here for. This is what she does.
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Oh. Karu. That's what that look meant, and there's something, distant and muted, shock or anger or fear but it's less important now than the fact that there's darkness and dizziness and nothing closing in around him, and is this really it, what she's meant to ease him into? She could have told him.
Reply
It's the most excruciating pain Mat's ever felt, ten times worse than the bullet wound he received just seconds ago. If he had to imagine what being stretched on a rack, then stabbed with burning hot pokers, then having his skin flayed off of him, he'd choose that over this. This...
He's almost certain it's the feeling of his soul being ripped apart.
There are screams, almost inhuman, that he only half hears, and a dull throbbing altogether too close to his heart. He doesn't quite register that the screams are coming from him.
He's going to die. His last conscious thought is that Nate's never gonna forgive him for this.
Then it's too much, too much pain, too much loss. His mind falls apart at the seams, and his screams die as it all fades into blackness, leaving him still in a slowly-growing pool of white blood, mingling with red at the edges.
It hardly takes five seconds.
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Thane's not stupid. He knows how this world works - insofar as anyone's told him, at least. Kid keels over after Little Sister goes down? Guardian Angel. Girl runs straight across the line of fire to the dying guy? Angel of Death. Neither of them really worry him. And neither of them are the ones still disarming the bomb.
He doesn't bother to kill the angel.
The door to the maintenance hallway is still open and he steps into it, and oh, if it isn't his old friend. He raises the gun to fire - should have done this earlier - and-
( ... )
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IT becomes I, THAT becomes THIS, the world shifts and twists because he's been watching it through the wrong eyes or he'd been wrong; not wrong, asleep; not asleep, dead, not dead, not this not who or what he was or what-
He hits the wall.
He hits the ground.
He (he thinks it's he) makes a noise he can only recognize as noise, feels his hands (whose is his?) clawing at his skull and there's too much in his mind, too many things or not enough people, hate and rage and horror and none of them agree and he's falling (hasn't he fallen?) hasn't he
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