[MGW] 104. Fireworks Display
As the Earth righted itself, Ianto found himself with an armful of Gwen.
"He did it!" He didn't know if she meant Jack or the Doctor, or them both collectively, but it didn't matter. She grinned and kissed him on the side of the mouth. Twice. "We're back."
"We are," he breathed into a laugh of relief as he held her close.
They were alive, thanks to Tosh. They were back, thanks to Jack and his Doctor. Only the remains of a Dalek and a spray of bullets littering the ground were there to remind him what could have been.
"Rhys!" Gwen said suddenly. She stepped back, her hand still on Ianto's arm, a reminder for them both and a habit they'd fallen into since they lost the others. "Oh my god, I should phone Rhys."
"Before he phones you," Ianto agreed, smiling at her fondly.
As she opened her mouth to answer, her purse began to ring.
"That'll be him." By the time Gwen glanced over her shoulder, she was already halfway to her mobile. She looked elated, as though she'd travelled vast distances across space just to take this call. "I won't be long."
Ianto tried not to listen as she greeted her husband and explained what she knew of the situation-- which was precious little more than the rest of the world knew of it. He couldn't begrudge Gwen her privacy, not in this.
Leaving her to it, he crossed the Hub and used his computer to double-check that the Torchwood mainframe was still up and running. It was, and happily it seemed undamaged by the trip. A quick survey of civilian and military channels, Ianto found quickly, revealed that not everyone had been so fortunate.
UNIT was nearly entirely off-line.
His stomach clenched as he remembered, far too vividly, the moment they thought Martha died.
It made sense. As military targets, they would have been taken out first. UNIT, Torchwood, and then the normal armed forces, all across the world. Tosh had saved Torchwood, but left Torchwood unable to help either of the others-- not they would have done much, dead.
As it was, so many lives were lost. Perhaps one day this too would be a battle named.
"Ianto," Gwen called over. When he turned up, he saw that she was on her way back over, phone still against her ear. "Bring up the news footage, will you? Rhys says they're celebrating everywhere."
"Just a second," he murmured, though by the time he said it he was already switching the display over to network coverage.
As Gwen came to a halt behind him, he hit the last button and brought up the current news feed from the BBC.
It showed the Plass, full of people. Delighted, bewildered people. Humanity's ability to bounce back from crisis was astounding-- it always had been. Even if it were named, were memorialized, within a week half of the population would be convinced that it was just another hoax.
"I repeat," the announcer was saying, her face lit up in joy, "the stars are shining again. Everything has returned to normal. Tomorrow, we will begin to come to terms with the fantastic events of these last twenty-four hours, but around the world, tonight is a night for celebration."
The camera panned up, to reveal fireworks exploding over the water, many in quick succession, the colors striking against the blackness of the sky-- a sky, no one would fail to notice, peppered with tiny pinpoints of light.
The shot changed back to a view of the Plass, hundreds of people cheering, crying, and dancing, the constant flicker of red, blue, yellow, purple, green reflected in the water tower. In the background, a nameless and cheerful pop song segued into Land of My Fathers.
"It almost makes you forget."
Gwen looked over, as though she hadn't expected him to speak. "What?"
"Hundreds of people," he said, frowning as he thought of UNIT, the youth of so many nations. "Thousands, maybe. Reported missing or dead. For those exterminated or taken, we might never know."
"Awful," was all she said, all there was to say. She glanced up toward the water tower, toward the paving stone that marked the top of the invisible lift, quietly trying to reconcile it all.
Ianto nodded. If he strained his ears, he thought he could hear the buzz of the people and music and life above. And somehow, as he followed Gwen's gaze toward the faint sounds, he couldn't stop himself from saying, his voice low, "It wasn't only the Daleks."
She understood, but he could tell she didn't want to; it was reluctant, the knowledge clawing at her defenses, no matter the price.
Ianto knew, then, that he had to show her what he'd been looking at before she'd come back; it wasn't Torchwood business, not really, but maybe that needed to change. He tapped a few keys and the image on the monitor shifted, revealed Queen's Arcade. Gwen breathed in and he couldn't blame her.
It was trashed.
Windows were broken. Shops were looted-- in a few instances, they were completely cleaned out. From beneath at least one pane of broken, dislodged glass jutted an arm, unmoving but prominent, and for a moment Ianto could look nowhere else.
"My god," Gwen whispered.
A second went by, and then another. Finally, she seemed to remember the mobile at her ear, the husband calling her name. "Rhys," she said, "Rhys, no. Hold on."
Worldwide damage. An unknown death toll. And above a crowd had formed, music blaring, lights flashing, fireworks exploding over the Bay.
Suddenly, it looked like nothing but a wake.
Ianto Jones
Torchwood
950 words
"He did it!" He didn't know if she meant Jack or the Doctor, or them both collectively, but it didn't matter. She grinned and kissed him on the side of the mouth. Twice. "We're back."
"We are," he breathed into a laugh of relief as he held her close.
They were alive, thanks to Tosh. They were back, thanks to Jack and his Doctor. Only the remains of a Dalek and a spray of bullets littering the ground were there to remind him what could have been.
"Rhys!" Gwen said suddenly. She stepped back, her hand still on Ianto's arm, a reminder for them both and a habit they'd fallen into since they lost the others. "Oh my god, I should phone Rhys."
"Before he phones you," Ianto agreed, smiling at her fondly.
As she opened her mouth to answer, her purse began to ring.
"That'll be him." By the time Gwen glanced over her shoulder, she was already halfway to her mobile. She looked elated, as though she'd travelled vast distances across space just to take this call. "I won't be long."
Ianto tried not to listen as she greeted her husband and explained what she knew of the situation-- which was precious little more than the rest of the world knew of it. He couldn't begrudge Gwen her privacy, not in this.
Leaving her to it, he crossed the Hub and used his computer to double-check that the Torchwood mainframe was still up and running. It was, and happily it seemed undamaged by the trip. A quick survey of civilian and military channels, Ianto found quickly, revealed that not everyone had been so fortunate.
UNIT was nearly entirely off-line.
His stomach clenched as he remembered, far too vividly, the moment they thought Martha died.
It made sense. As military targets, they would have been taken out first. UNIT, Torchwood, and then the normal armed forces, all across the world. Tosh had saved Torchwood, but left Torchwood unable to help either of the others-- not they would have done much, dead.
As it was, so many lives were lost. Perhaps one day this too would be a battle named.
"Ianto," Gwen called over. When he turned up, he saw that she was on her way back over, phone still against her ear. "Bring up the news footage, will you? Rhys says they're celebrating everywhere."
"Just a second," he murmured, though by the time he said it he was already switching the display over to network coverage.
As Gwen came to a halt behind him, he hit the last button and brought up the current news feed from the BBC.
It showed the Plass, full of people. Delighted, bewildered people. Humanity's ability to bounce back from crisis was astounding-- it always had been. Even if it were named, were memorialized, within a week half of the population would be convinced that it was just another hoax.
"I repeat," the announcer was saying, her face lit up in joy, "the stars are shining again. Everything has returned to normal. Tomorrow, we will begin to come to terms with the fantastic events of these last twenty-four hours, but around the world, tonight is a night for celebration."
The camera panned up, to reveal fireworks exploding over the water, many in quick succession, the colors striking against the blackness of the sky-- a sky, no one would fail to notice, peppered with tiny pinpoints of light.
The shot changed back to a view of the Plass, hundreds of people cheering, crying, and dancing, the constant flicker of red, blue, yellow, purple, green reflected in the water tower. In the background, a nameless and cheerful pop song segued into Land of My Fathers.
"It almost makes you forget."
Gwen looked over, as though she hadn't expected him to speak. "What?"
"Hundreds of people," he said, frowning as he thought of UNIT, the youth of so many nations. "Thousands, maybe. Reported missing or dead. For those exterminated or taken, we might never know."
"Awful," was all she said, all there was to say. She glanced up toward the water tower, toward the paving stone that marked the top of the invisible lift, quietly trying to reconcile it all.
Ianto nodded. If he strained his ears, he thought he could hear the buzz of the people and music and life above. And somehow, as he followed Gwen's gaze toward the faint sounds, he couldn't stop himself from saying, his voice low, "It wasn't only the Daleks."
She understood, but he could tell she didn't want to; it was reluctant, the knowledge clawing at her defenses, no matter the price.
Ianto knew, then, that he had to show her what he'd been looking at before she'd come back; it wasn't Torchwood business, not really, but maybe that needed to change. He tapped a few keys and the image on the monitor shifted, revealed Queen's Arcade. Gwen breathed in and he couldn't blame her.
It was trashed.
Windows were broken. Shops were looted-- in a few instances, they were completely cleaned out. From beneath at least one pane of broken, dislodged glass jutted an arm, unmoving but prominent, and for a moment Ianto could look nowhere else.
"My god," Gwen whispered.
A second went by, and then another. Finally, she seemed to remember the mobile at her ear, the husband calling her name. "Rhys," she said, "Rhys, no. Hold on."
Worldwide damage. An unknown death toll. And above a crowd had formed, music blaring, lights flashing, fireworks exploding over the Bay.
Suddenly, it looked like nothing but a wake.
Ianto Jones
Torchwood
950 words