Fic: Sweetest in the Gale (Doctor Who/Torchwood/Sarah Jane Adventures)
Story Title: Sweetest in the Gale
Author: butterfly
Summary: That's the thing about these small, tiny humans. They refuse to give up.
Rating: Not any higher than the show. Dark themes, though. PG-13ish.
Warning: Spoilers through Doctor Who 4x11 - "Turn Left"; Torchwood 2x13 - "Exit Wounds"; The Sarah Jane Adventures 1x10 - "The Lost Boy".
Disclaimer: I don't own anything -- it's all the BBC. Also, the title is taken from Emily Dickinson. Also, this fic is totally my personal therapy.
Sweetest in the Gale
"It's almost time for us to head out," Gwen said. Rhys was still breathing a little more heavily than normal - they'd had to run hard to get here before the poison in the air became too thick. "I'm hoping this won't take too long."
"You could stay with me," Rhys suggested. "Watch over things from here."
"Let Jack and Ianto have all the fun? That's not going to happen."
Rhys turned away from her and raised his voice to reach the other room.
"Help me out here-"
"Sorry, Rhys," Jack said, leaning through the doorway; Ianto was right behind him, his hand on Jack's hip. They'd probably been taking a moment of their own. "I need her."
"You didn't even hear what I was going to say," Rhys protested.
"Am I wrong?" Jack asked.
Rhys huffed out an annoyed breath but said nothing.
"Besides, it's not as though Jack could talk her out of it." Ianto met her gaze, the corner of his mouth crooking up in a tiny smile. "When Gwen's made up her mind, there's no shifting it. You know that." Gwen mouthed a 'thank you' at him.
"I think I could," Jack said, reflectively. Gwen snorted and he frowned at her. "I can be very persuasive."
"Just keep on telling yourself that if it makes you feel better," she said, before turning back to Rhys. "You'll be safer if you stay here - the hub should be fairly well protected against the gas."
"I love you," he said, drawing her in for a lingering kiss.
"Aye," Gwen agreed, pulling away. "And I love you. Take care of yourself."
"Take care of each other."
And they had, even managing to sneak aboard the Sontaran ship with a brilliant, though dangerous, plan.
But now their only escape route had been blocked off by a noisy group of Sontarans enjoying some pre-cloning celebrating and it didn't look like they were thinking of moving any time soon. They kept banging their hands together and shouting the same words, over and over.
"We can't afford to let them discover the feedback loop. Too many lives depend on it," Jack said. Gwen reached for his hand and entwined her fingers through his. He continued, "If they don't leave in time… I'm so sorry."
"We'll just be dead. What's going to happen to you?" Ianto's voice was quiet.
"I'll get to find out what hard vacuum does to someone immortal." Jack wrapped his other arm around Ianto's shoulders, holding the three of them together, as he did so often these days.
Gwen shivered at his words. She glanced over at their work - as soon as the Sontarans made their move to attack, the weapon system would overload and they would destroy themselves. No way of knowing when it would happen. No way of setting a delay or moving up the timing. The systems were too alien, Jack had said.
"I think it's a war cry," Ianto said. Gwen pressed closer to Jack, listening for footsteps. "I think it's started."
"If we don't get out… I love you both so much," Gwen said. "And I don't regret anything."
She tightened her grip on Jack's hand, looking at Ianto. He nodded, slightly. "I w-"
Everything went white.
Ten.
"The planet's too close." Astrid wasn't an experienced traveler, but this couldn't be right. She settled her tray of drinks against her hip and looked about at the guests. No one else seemed to be paying any attention to the view. "Our orbit isn't going to hold. We're too low."
"What was that, child?" The man who spoke was the tour guide, Mr. Copper, who had just returned from taking a group down to the planet. "What did you say?"
"We’re going to crash."
As if her words had triggered the shift, everything changed. The Host were... were attacking them and everyone else was yelling and racing for some safe place to hide, but Astrid found that she couldn't look away from the window. They were still moving toward the planet - toward Earth - and they were speeding up.
Everything was shaking around her - the ship was only barely holding together through the burn of their fall. She could start to make out individual shapes more clearly. A city. She could see the lines and dots of a city.
They were going so fast.
They weren't going to stop.
That great, alien city and all those people down below were going to…
Oh, no.
Nine.
"Take it, Morgenstern," Martha said, even that short a sentence broken by her helpless gasping. "Live."
"I can't-" His voice was so frantic and desperate. He'd hate himself if he said yes, that much was obvious, but he was so close to saying it anyway. It was just the two of them now, only the two of them who'd followed along and tried to reason with those… those aliens. They'd been taken to the moon by rhino-headed aliens. They'd been kidnapped by aliens.
She was on the moon. She'd always wanted to go to the moon.
Martha blinked back tears and tried to concentrate.
"Oliver. Please." She was almost a doctor, Martha reminded herself. Morgenstern wouldn't die if she could prevent it. It was her life or his.
After a moment, he nodded, a small sob escaping his throat. Then he slid his hand across the floor to grab the mask from her hand.
She could hear him breathing, in and out, doing his best to make the air last as long as possible. It might not do any good, she might just be delaying his death, but if there was the slightest chance…
Please…
It was so cold now. Martha tried to breathe in, uselessly. Her head was killing her - hypoxia was setting in. Soon enough, she'd lose consciousness and if she didn't get air in time, she'd…
She'd…
She couldn't remember what would happen next.
she couldn't breathe…
she…
Eight.
"It's getting harder… for me to breathe," Maria said, leaning her head against Sarah Jane's shoulder. Clyde was pressed up too warm against her other side. Sarah Jane was still cradling Luke's body tightly. "We saved the world, though… didn't we?"
"Yes," Sarah Jane said, and her voice was thick. "We saved the world."
"That's worth something, I reckon," Clyde said, his words coming slowly.
"I just… I wish I could have… have said goodbye to my dad," Maria whispered.
She took in another breath and let it go.
Each time, the breath in was harder and the breath out was easier.
She'd seen so much, knowing Sarah Jane. She'd learned that the universe was so much grander and better than she'd ever imagined. It was worth it.
It had to have been worth it.
Maria closed her eyes and tried to keep on breathing, just for a little while longer. Her ribs ached.
"I'm so sorry," Sarah Jane said. "I was hoping that… they would send the hospital back down."
Maria pressed her face into Sarah Jane's shoulder. She smelled nice, the way she always did. Sarah Jane was so professional and smart and brave… everything that Maria had ever…
"It's all right," Maria said, opening her eyes to look up at Sarah Jane. "We wanted to come."
"Wanted to help," Clyde added. "Glad we came - you needed us."
"I always need you," Sarah Jane said. Her arm had come up around Maria now and she was stroking Maria's hair. "You saved me… all of you."
"Do you… believe in anything?" Clyde asked. His fingers twitched against Maria's leg. "Any kind of afterlife? I've never really thought about it."
"I like to think there's something, afterwards," Sarah Jane said. "Though the Doctor would have told me… to stop being a fool and use my head. But I hope that he was wrong. I hope that I might see him again."
"You will," Maria said, as firmly as she could. "It'll be you and me and Clyde… and Luke and your Doctor. We'll all be together. You can introduce us to him."
"You'd have liked him," Sarah Jane said. "Oh, you would have all liked him so very much. He was… like a teenager himself sometimes. So full of life and… always causing me so much trouble."
"Don't always… cause you trouble," Clyde objected, words slurring together.
"No. No, you don't," Sarah Jane said. She pressed past Maria to briefly brush a gentle touch onto Clyde's forehead. "I'm so glad… to have known you both. Please believe that."
Maria felt him shift, his head nodding slowly. Sarah Jane relaxed back onto the wall and Maria settled in against her, struggling for another breath. Clyde was so warm next to her.
Some more moments passed and it was calm now.
Everything was so quiet.
Maria's eyelids slid down and she breathed out.
Seven.
Chantho stood by nervously, vestigial mandibles twitching, watching the Professor shift restlessly on his pallet. "Chan- you are certain -tho?"
"Quite certain. Oh, dear friend, I'm sorry that I did not tell you sooner," he said, fretfully. "This blasted useless body of mine has worn out on me at the most inconvenient time."
"Chan- you did not wish me to worry -tho," she said, reaching down to touch his face, hand lingering on his cheek. He was cooler than most of the humans, but he always had been. It told her nothing. "Chan- I do not blame you -tho."
"I never told them the truth," he said. "About Utopia."
"Chan- I will keep trying -tho," she said, looking over at his great machine. "Chan- I will go through all our notes and try everything again -tho."
"There was so much more that I wanted to do," he said, and he sounded unlike himself, angry and hard. "So much more that I was meant to be."
He took a great shuddering breath, his face contorting, and then he stilled.
There was an odd clicking sound.
That broken fob watch that he'd always worn was lying open and something in it sparkled.
Even as she reached out to touch it, that tiny spark died.
Chantho tilted her head for a moment, considering, and then dismissed it as a trick of the light.
It was just an old watch, after all.
Six.
"He wouldn't have approved of this… show," Sarah Jane said.
"I don't disagree, but they seem to need it," Alastair said, nodding at the throngs of UNIT personnel. "I must admit, I don't mind having this chance to... Well, he was a dear friend to the both of us."
She nodded, her mouth twisting down.
"I saw him through so many changes," Alastair continued. "Yet I never truly imagined that I would outlive him."
"His people died," Sarah Jane said, softly. Alastair glanced at her, not able to hide his surprise. "All of his people are dead now."
"When did this happen?"
"There was a war across time and space," she said, staring at the body. She'd recognized it straightaway, but Alastair had never met him in this form, all dark, ruffled hair and long limbs. "All of them died."
"The entire species?"
"He was the last. Now he's gone, too," her voice broke, slightly, near the end. "We're on our own. For the first time in history, we're all on our own."
"Oh, Sarah," Alastair said and, for a moment, she seemed so young to him. "We always were."
Five.
"Is there something wrong, sir?" Ianto's accent was normally music to Jack's ears but right now everything jarred. "Jack?"
He'd never even had a chance to see the Doctor's new regeneration in person.
"I just received word that-" Jack said and then stopped. He forced himself to look up at Ianto's face and he tried again. "An old friend of mine passed away at Christmas."
"I'm so sorry. Is there anything-"
"You can leave," Jack said. Ianto's lips parted as if to speak, then he pressed them together, tightly, and turned away.
Jack would feel bad about that tomorrow.
Four.
"We regret to inform you that-" the soldier paused and had to swallow, hard. A soldier from UNIT, but that had to mean…
"Oh, no," Sarah Jane said, her hand clutching at the doorframe. "He's dead."
Three.
When they pulled the Doctor's craft out of the mess that had been left behind from Christmas, it was the blonde woman who gave them their instructions. Her hands moved quickly as she spoke and she knew far too much.
She told them that they could save the Doctor; that they could save the world. And there was something in her eyes when she spoke of the Doctor that had convinced Erisa that the woman was telling the truth.
Convincing her superiors had been a more complicated matter, but she wouldn't get far in UNIT by being shy.
And the more that the woman spoke, the more convinced Erisa was that they were doing the right thing - she talked of alien matters with such conviction, of crossing universes, and of setting things right. And when she touched the Doctor's machine, it would move slightly and hum - that was more than it did with anyone else.
Through it all, the woman refused to tell any of them her name and she wouldn't allow them to mention her outside the work site. No Torchwood employees and no consultants, she'd said at the beginning, and she stuck with it.
Every few days, Erisa would come to look at what their scientists were building and smile, just a little.
She'd never have dreamed that she would live long enough to see a human-built time machine.
The woman, always wearing those same clothes, would pop in and out - sometimes literally, in a blaze of light and a rush of noise - and give them instructions and modifications. She would stare at the ship sometimes, a look of great longing on her face and if anyone caught her at it, she would just smile that wide smile of hers and say that everything was going according to plan.
He'll be back, she would promise.
The Doctor will be back.
Two.
She'd been by water, she'd said. Bad Wolf Bay. He hadn't asked her what kind of day it had been, but he believed that the sun had been shining on her face. He'd only been able to see the smallest glimpse into that world and he'd barely been able to look away from her.
Her eyes were hazel. He wanted to be thinking of that, he decided, and the water from the river continued to fall down around him, soaking him to the skin. He could still hear the fading voice of the Racnoss but he pushed it out of his mind because, right now, he wanted to think about... hazel eyes. It was a funny sort of word, 'hazel'. But her eyes were too light in color to call them plain brown. As he recalled, it was good old Shakespeare who'd first written down hazel to describe someone's eyes. It seemed such a shame, now, that he'd never taken her to meet the man. She'd have made terrible "Romeo and Juliet" jokes about her name or tried to win more money off of him.
He'd never given her that ten quid for Queen Victoria.
There was so much that he'd never given her.
So much that he'd taken away.
Still, she had her mother and Mickey. She had Torchwood. She'd build a life. She'd make herself a lovely, fantastic life. Maybe she'd marry Mick- no, she'd meet some-
No.
She'd make friends because that was what she did. Everywhere they went, she made friends. Someone would need her and she would save them. She would place her arm around their shoulders and all the cold would lift away.
He shivered slightly. The fires had finally gone out and there wasn't any more screaming. The only sound left was the water, still pouring in from above him. He glanced up and around - he could probably still make it out in time if he ran.
And then what?
He could run for the rest of eternity and nothing would change.
She loved him.
He was a murderer, so many times over. No one was screaming because they were all dead. He'd committed genocide. Again.
She loved him.
Eventually, he'd forget that her eyes were hazel. He'd forget the sound of her voice, the warmth of her hand in his. He wouldn't recall the shape of her eyebrows or the angle of her nose. The echo of her laughter would fade away from his memory and she would join the misty ranks of the dead and forgotten.
He'd meet someone else. He'd learn to smile all over again, show them the size of his box, crack jokes, hold hands, find trouble and run across alien worlds together. He'd give them the universe. Then they could leave when they grew weary of his life. Or they might sacrifice themselves to save a world. Or…
And he could start all over again.
Then he could begin again, the time after that.
On and on into forever, an endless line of friends he couldn't ever keep.
He could still see the shape of her mouth forming around those last words; her final message to him.
She loved him.
The Thames rained down on him and there wasn't time for him to escape anymore, but that was all right.
He was tired of running.
One.