Lost and Found - Chapter Eighteen
Lost and Found - Chapter Eighteen
Author: Milady Dragon
Series: Dragon-Verse
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): JackHarkness/Ianto Jones, Phil Coulson/Clint Barton, Rowena Harkness-Jones/Henry Morgan, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (mentioned), Clint Barton/Other (mentioned), Cadi Harkness-Jones/John Hart (mentioned), Rhys Williams/Gwen Cooper (past), Others
Warnings: Implied Torture, Mpreg (mentioned), Reincarnation, Language, Violence, Angst
Spoilers: For most of the Dragon-Verse stories, some not yet written
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, I would have treated it better. There are other things in here also that I don't own as well.
A/N2: One more chapter after this, and I was also requested to make up a list of the Harkness-Jones family which I'll post at the end.
Summary: "Fucking Rift," Rhys managed to mutter, realising immediately what must have happened.
Living in Cardiff was like playing Russian Roulette: no one was safe, but the Rift more often than not dropped off instead of picked up and it was just luck of the draw when those negative spikes appeared and snatched a person away.
23 June 5119 (Earth Standard Date)
Dahlnia Prime
He’d gotten back to the Shining Star just in time for everyone else to wake up, and he was greeted by the small group who called the spaceship home, asking about Nathan and how he was doing. Rhys had dutifully reported what he knew, and then headed toward his cabin, where he’d done exactly what he’d told Clint he was going to do…faceplant into the bunk.
When he woke up, he felt surprisingly refreshed. Rhys would have bet ancient money that he would have had a hard time sleeping, just from everything that’s happened the last several days. He could still see all the blood on Nathan’s dark scales, but at least that memory no longer made him ill.
Thank goodness, because despite everyone telling him it wasn’t his fault it was gonna be a while before that sank in.
He took a shower, changed out of the clothes he’d slept in, and then headed toward the observation deck, where he knew there would at least be coffee. His stomach started complaining the moment the smell of food hit him, which was surprising considering he hadn’t been sure he’d be able to eat after everything that had happened.
Rhys thought he would be alright…eventually.
He wasn’t alone on the deck. Clint was there, as was Emlyn and Morgan. They were standing in front of the coffee machine and with them together like that he could certainly see the family resemblance, despite the fact that Clint still looked enough like the old Clint from Torchwood that he would have recognised him anywhere.
“Hey, Rhys,” Clint called him over, greeting him with a smile. It looked a little tired, and Rhys wondered when he’d finally been kicked out of Nathan’s room and told to rest.
“I’d move from in front of the machine if I were you,” Rhys practically growled, making a grabby hand toward the mugs that were sit out on the mini-bar. He felt like he needed coffee like he needed to breathe.
All three siblings chuckled, taking steps back so the machine was clear. Rhys muscled his way between them, grabbed the first mug available, and dispensed the coffee as quickly as he could.
It was hot, and he almost burned his tongue when he took a sip, but it tasted great and did wonders for the cobwebs in his brain despite how well he’d slept. “What time is it?” he asked.
“Just before breakfast,” Morgan answered. “You slept the night away.”
Rhys paused, his mug up to his lips, about to take another drink. He gently lowered it away. “Bloody hell, why didn’t anyone wake me up?”
“You needed it,” Emlyn said.
“And you’re not the only one sleeping in,” Morgan pointed out. “Not one member of my band has gotten out of bed yet.”
“Has there been any change?” Rhys asked Clint, his coffee suddenly not so appetising.
“No,” his friend replied. “But Gareth is optimistic that he’ll be waking up sometime today.”
Rhys felt a weight lifting from his chest, a weight that he hadn’t noticed before. Nathan was going to be fine. That was the best news he’d had in a while.
“Drink up,” Clint urged, “get some food in you and we’ll all head back up to the hospital.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he agreed.
Rhys really didn’t pay much attention to what he ate, really needing to see with his own eyes that Nathan was going to be fine. Sure, he trusted what Gareth said, him being a doctor and all, but Rhys suspected he wouldn’t really start getting rid of the guilt he felt until Nathan was healed up and being his normal, irrepressible self.
“I haven’t heard from everyone yet,” Clint said, “but I do know that Henry and Rowena are coming in with several students from the University who’ve volunteered to help. Phillip and Tad were on Hubworld, and they’re both taking responsibility for the vengeance part of it all, but last time I spoke with Tad he said they were on the way. Anwyn was in the area so she picked them up, as well as Dad who had to get away from the little hellions first. Of course Phillip wouldn’t stay behind because he wants to be here for Nathan, and to take the bounty hunter into custody personally.”
“Torchwood is taking the bounty hunter?” Rhys asked, even though he wasn’t at all surprised.
“Oh, right…you weren’t there for the Adjudication,” Emlyn said, grinning. “I wasn’t there for all of it, but it certainly was exciting.”
“Wait,” Rhys put his fork down, glaring around the table, “is this something I should have been told earlier?”
All three looked slightly guilty. “Um…maybe?” Clint answered vaguely.
“Goddess,” Morgan muttered. “Alright…the Andralan called for an Adjudication in order to get you back.”
Rhys guessed that an Adjudication must have been some sort of trial or something. “And they sent the bounty hunter…why? I mean, if they thought they were gonna get me back…” He shivered, and it wasn’t anything to do with the temperature inside the observation deck. The last thing he wanted was to end up back on Andrala…although he would have done it if it had meant Nathan hadn’t been injured…
“That wasn’t it at all, from what I understand,” Emlyn went on. “The Andralan weren’t going to get you back no matter what, because they didn’t have cause. The ruling went against them, but they had to try one more thing in order to come out on top…and that was putting a price on your head. You can imagine how that went down with the Adjudicators.”
“And Phillip.” Clint shuddered. “I wish I could have been there in person with him. I was so proud that he claimed vengeance, but at the same time I’ve never seen him so mad that he completely lost control of his magic like that. There was ice everywhere from what I could tell through the holographic display.”
Things were going over Rhys’ head, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Going on about magic - which he knew a lot about, including that the Phil Coulson of his time had somehow gotten some from that crazy Norse God who’d killed him and he hadn’t wanted to have a damned thing to do with it - and Adjudication and shit he wasn’t understanding at all…about the only thing he did understand was the vengeance part, because he’d seen Ianto pull the claim of Rite of Vengeance before.
“It’s complicated,” Clint said to whatever expression Rhys had been wearing. “Don’t worry; you’ll get a full explanation. In fact, I’m hoping you’ll come back to Hubworld with us when we take Nathan back home. It’ll be after Phillip gets here, but I’m pretty sure Nathan would feel better if you were with us.” He had a shrewd look in his eye. “And I think you’d feel better coming with us as well.”
Rhys had to agree. But he wasn’t about to go down without snarking, “And spend all my time in a ship with you lot? If I’m not crazy now, I will be by the time we get to where we’re going.”
“Trust me, Williams,” Clint chortled, “you’re already crazy. It’s not about to get worse.”
“But it’s a good kind of crazy!” he defended himself, joining in on the laughter.
He was starting to feel better, but he knew it was still going to take some time. But Rhys had faith he would get there.
**********
Nathan regained consciousness later that day.
Rhys couldn’t help grinning even as he was berating the young man for putting himself in danger.
“But whoever it was, was using armour piercers!” Nathan exclaimed, his voice gravelly from sleep. “You wouldn’t have survived!”
“Nathan,” Clint said, from his seat on the floor next to his son’s head, “this is his way of showing that he’s glad you’re going to be fine.”
“He has a really funny way of it then!”
That caused a round of laughter, echoing off the walls of Nathan’s room. It was all family there, with Rhys feeling almost like he was on the outside, watching them all react in the way family did; caring for the one who was injured, while trying not to show that they really felt that way. It was ingrained in all of them, and Rhys was barely resisting the tug of all those emotions trying to drag him in. He wasn’t a blood relation, as much as he wanted to be.
But, at the same time, this was the pretty much the same dynamic that the team had had throughout the early years of Torchwood, continuing on even as the Institute had expanded into London. It had been on the cusp of becoming so much more…and Rhys had missed it all, when the Rift had pulled him forcibly into the future. He was seeing the result of all that building, the Torchwood Institute now, today. It was now an organisation that spanned Twelve Galaxies, with outposts on several worlds. Jack and Ianto had taken Torchwood to the stars, and while Rhys hadn’t been there for all of the beginning he felt he could be proud of what it had become.
He did have to wonder though, if he had a place at this new, improved Torchwood. Or among these dragons, who were the children of two of his best friends. Even Clint - who he’d known before all this shit had started - was different now.
Still, Rhys knew they were telling him he belonged. That he really did have a home with them, and all he really needed to do was to take a step across the line he’d drawn himself in the imaginary sand of his mind. He had no real idea what was causing him to hesitate. All he had to do was hold out his hand, and every person in this room would take it and welcome him in.
He was positive that he wasn’t going home, to the past. Clint had pretty much made that clear with his comments about missing Rhys. And even if he hadn’t come right out and said it, the implications of being asked to accompany his family back to Hubworld were clear. There was no way he was going to turn that offer down.
Rhys was pulled from his thoughts by six sets of eyes on him.
“You’re thinking awfully hard,” Clint teased. “Don’t want to disturb the spider webs that have taken up residence in your head.”
Rhys flipped him off, and everyone in the room laughed. “Well, apparently that gesture is still in vogue,” he snorted.
“Well, in this family at least,” Emlyn answered. “Tad is particularly fond of it.”
“Care to share?” Morgan asked.
“Not really,” Rhys admitted.
“I can make a guess.” Clint leaned back enough to put his back against Emlyn’s legs, propping him up. “You’re thinking about home, and how much things have changed, and about just how you fit in.”
“Shit. Have you been reborn as a mind reader as well as a dragon?” Rhys shook his head. He knew damned well that his former teammate wasn’t any such thing; Clint Barton had always been that intuitive, even if he hadn’t always believed himself to be. And, while he hadn’t gotten it all correct, he’d come fucking close.
“Please.” He waved the notion off. “But it’s pretty obvious that you have a lot on your mind, and it’s not hard to guess what it is.”
Rhys sighed. He could trust these people, but a part of him wasn’t ready to vomit out all his worries yet, not when Nathan was still laying there, recovering from the wound that Rhys had been at least partially responsible for.
No, he really wanted to speak to Ianto. While Clint was a good friend, he’d been primarily assigned to London, and then had become SHIELD liaison when Phil Coulson had begun rebuilding. Ianto, though, had been Rhys’ superior and close friend throughout his time with Torchwood. Hell, it had been Ianto who had recruited him, and who had trusted him enough to reveal his real self to him, a long time ago on the roof of a Cardiff pub. That night had been the first step into a larger world, even if it had eventually lost him his fiancée it had turned out all for the best. He’d been a valued member of a team that was as close as family, and if there was one thing Rhys was going to miss more than anything it was that closeness.
Nothing was ever going to be the same. Even if Jack and Ianto were there, the rest of the team were dead and dust except for Clint, who by whoever’s grace had been reborn into a dragon form so many years after he’d passed away.
But then, maybe being the same was overrated.
Clint was looking at him knowingly, and Rhys rolled his eyes. “You are a pain in my arse, Clint.”
“So not much has changed, then?” Gareth asked innocently.
That earned the dragon a pillow in the face, while everyone else laughed.
Author: Milady Dragon
Series: Dragon-Verse
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): JackHarkness/Ianto Jones, Phil Coulson/Clint Barton, Rowena Harkness-Jones/Henry Morgan, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (mentioned), Clint Barton/Other (mentioned), Cadi Harkness-Jones/John Hart (mentioned), Rhys Williams/Gwen Cooper (past), Others
Warnings: Implied Torture, Mpreg (mentioned), Reincarnation, Language, Violence, Angst
Spoilers: For most of the Dragon-Verse stories, some not yet written
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, I would have treated it better. There are other things in here also that I don't own as well.
A/N2: One more chapter after this, and I was also requested to make up a list of the Harkness-Jones family which I'll post at the end.
Summary: "Fucking Rift," Rhys managed to mutter, realising immediately what must have happened.
Living in Cardiff was like playing Russian Roulette: no one was safe, but the Rift more often than not dropped off instead of picked up and it was just luck of the draw when those negative spikes appeared and snatched a person away.
23 June 5119 (Earth Standard Date)
Dahlnia Prime
He’d gotten back to the Shining Star just in time for everyone else to wake up, and he was greeted by the small group who called the spaceship home, asking about Nathan and how he was doing. Rhys had dutifully reported what he knew, and then headed toward his cabin, where he’d done exactly what he’d told Clint he was going to do…faceplant into the bunk.
When he woke up, he felt surprisingly refreshed. Rhys would have bet ancient money that he would have had a hard time sleeping, just from everything that’s happened the last several days. He could still see all the blood on Nathan’s dark scales, but at least that memory no longer made him ill.
Thank goodness, because despite everyone telling him it wasn’t his fault it was gonna be a while before that sank in.
He took a shower, changed out of the clothes he’d slept in, and then headed toward the observation deck, where he knew there would at least be coffee. His stomach started complaining the moment the smell of food hit him, which was surprising considering he hadn’t been sure he’d be able to eat after everything that had happened.
Rhys thought he would be alright…eventually.
He wasn’t alone on the deck. Clint was there, as was Emlyn and Morgan. They were standing in front of the coffee machine and with them together like that he could certainly see the family resemblance, despite the fact that Clint still looked enough like the old Clint from Torchwood that he would have recognised him anywhere.
“Hey, Rhys,” Clint called him over, greeting him with a smile. It looked a little tired, and Rhys wondered when he’d finally been kicked out of Nathan’s room and told to rest.
“I’d move from in front of the machine if I were you,” Rhys practically growled, making a grabby hand toward the mugs that were sit out on the mini-bar. He felt like he needed coffee like he needed to breathe.
All three siblings chuckled, taking steps back so the machine was clear. Rhys muscled his way between them, grabbed the first mug available, and dispensed the coffee as quickly as he could.
It was hot, and he almost burned his tongue when he took a sip, but it tasted great and did wonders for the cobwebs in his brain despite how well he’d slept. “What time is it?” he asked.
“Just before breakfast,” Morgan answered. “You slept the night away.”
Rhys paused, his mug up to his lips, about to take another drink. He gently lowered it away. “Bloody hell, why didn’t anyone wake me up?”
“You needed it,” Emlyn said.
“And you’re not the only one sleeping in,” Morgan pointed out. “Not one member of my band has gotten out of bed yet.”
“Has there been any change?” Rhys asked Clint, his coffee suddenly not so appetising.
“No,” his friend replied. “But Gareth is optimistic that he’ll be waking up sometime today.”
Rhys felt a weight lifting from his chest, a weight that he hadn’t noticed before. Nathan was going to be fine. That was the best news he’d had in a while.
“Drink up,” Clint urged, “get some food in you and we’ll all head back up to the hospital.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he agreed.
Rhys really didn’t pay much attention to what he ate, really needing to see with his own eyes that Nathan was going to be fine. Sure, he trusted what Gareth said, him being a doctor and all, but Rhys suspected he wouldn’t really start getting rid of the guilt he felt until Nathan was healed up and being his normal, irrepressible self.
“I haven’t heard from everyone yet,” Clint said, “but I do know that Henry and Rowena are coming in with several students from the University who’ve volunteered to help. Phillip and Tad were on Hubworld, and they’re both taking responsibility for the vengeance part of it all, but last time I spoke with Tad he said they were on the way. Anwyn was in the area so she picked them up, as well as Dad who had to get away from the little hellions first. Of course Phillip wouldn’t stay behind because he wants to be here for Nathan, and to take the bounty hunter into custody personally.”
“Torchwood is taking the bounty hunter?” Rhys asked, even though he wasn’t at all surprised.
“Oh, right…you weren’t there for the Adjudication,” Emlyn said, grinning. “I wasn’t there for all of it, but it certainly was exciting.”
“Wait,” Rhys put his fork down, glaring around the table, “is this something I should have been told earlier?”
All three looked slightly guilty. “Um…maybe?” Clint answered vaguely.
“Goddess,” Morgan muttered. “Alright…the Andralan called for an Adjudication in order to get you back.”
Rhys guessed that an Adjudication must have been some sort of trial or something. “And they sent the bounty hunter…why? I mean, if they thought they were gonna get me back…” He shivered, and it wasn’t anything to do with the temperature inside the observation deck. The last thing he wanted was to end up back on Andrala…although he would have done it if it had meant Nathan hadn’t been injured…
“That wasn’t it at all, from what I understand,” Emlyn went on. “The Andralan weren’t going to get you back no matter what, because they didn’t have cause. The ruling went against them, but they had to try one more thing in order to come out on top…and that was putting a price on your head. You can imagine how that went down with the Adjudicators.”
“And Phillip.” Clint shuddered. “I wish I could have been there in person with him. I was so proud that he claimed vengeance, but at the same time I’ve never seen him so mad that he completely lost control of his magic like that. There was ice everywhere from what I could tell through the holographic display.”
Things were going over Rhys’ head, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Going on about magic - which he knew a lot about, including that the Phil Coulson of his time had somehow gotten some from that crazy Norse God who’d killed him and he hadn’t wanted to have a damned thing to do with it - and Adjudication and shit he wasn’t understanding at all…about the only thing he did understand was the vengeance part, because he’d seen Ianto pull the claim of Rite of Vengeance before.
“It’s complicated,” Clint said to whatever expression Rhys had been wearing. “Don’t worry; you’ll get a full explanation. In fact, I’m hoping you’ll come back to Hubworld with us when we take Nathan back home. It’ll be after Phillip gets here, but I’m pretty sure Nathan would feel better if you were with us.” He had a shrewd look in his eye. “And I think you’d feel better coming with us as well.”
Rhys had to agree. But he wasn’t about to go down without snarking, “And spend all my time in a ship with you lot? If I’m not crazy now, I will be by the time we get to where we’re going.”
“Trust me, Williams,” Clint chortled, “you’re already crazy. It’s not about to get worse.”
“But it’s a good kind of crazy!” he defended himself, joining in on the laughter.
He was starting to feel better, but he knew it was still going to take some time. But Rhys had faith he would get there.
**********
Nathan regained consciousness later that day.
Rhys couldn’t help grinning even as he was berating the young man for putting himself in danger.
“But whoever it was, was using armour piercers!” Nathan exclaimed, his voice gravelly from sleep. “You wouldn’t have survived!”
“Nathan,” Clint said, from his seat on the floor next to his son’s head, “this is his way of showing that he’s glad you’re going to be fine.”
“He has a really funny way of it then!”
That caused a round of laughter, echoing off the walls of Nathan’s room. It was all family there, with Rhys feeling almost like he was on the outside, watching them all react in the way family did; caring for the one who was injured, while trying not to show that they really felt that way. It was ingrained in all of them, and Rhys was barely resisting the tug of all those emotions trying to drag him in. He wasn’t a blood relation, as much as he wanted to be.
But, at the same time, this was the pretty much the same dynamic that the team had had throughout the early years of Torchwood, continuing on even as the Institute had expanded into London. It had been on the cusp of becoming so much more…and Rhys had missed it all, when the Rift had pulled him forcibly into the future. He was seeing the result of all that building, the Torchwood Institute now, today. It was now an organisation that spanned Twelve Galaxies, with outposts on several worlds. Jack and Ianto had taken Torchwood to the stars, and while Rhys hadn’t been there for all of the beginning he felt he could be proud of what it had become.
He did have to wonder though, if he had a place at this new, improved Torchwood. Or among these dragons, who were the children of two of his best friends. Even Clint - who he’d known before all this shit had started - was different now.
Still, Rhys knew they were telling him he belonged. That he really did have a home with them, and all he really needed to do was to take a step across the line he’d drawn himself in the imaginary sand of his mind. He had no real idea what was causing him to hesitate. All he had to do was hold out his hand, and every person in this room would take it and welcome him in.
He was positive that he wasn’t going home, to the past. Clint had pretty much made that clear with his comments about missing Rhys. And even if he hadn’t come right out and said it, the implications of being asked to accompany his family back to Hubworld were clear. There was no way he was going to turn that offer down.
Rhys was pulled from his thoughts by six sets of eyes on him.
“You’re thinking awfully hard,” Clint teased. “Don’t want to disturb the spider webs that have taken up residence in your head.”
Rhys flipped him off, and everyone in the room laughed. “Well, apparently that gesture is still in vogue,” he snorted.
“Well, in this family at least,” Emlyn answered. “Tad is particularly fond of it.”
“Care to share?” Morgan asked.
“Not really,” Rhys admitted.
“I can make a guess.” Clint leaned back enough to put his back against Emlyn’s legs, propping him up. “You’re thinking about home, and how much things have changed, and about just how you fit in.”
“Shit. Have you been reborn as a mind reader as well as a dragon?” Rhys shook his head. He knew damned well that his former teammate wasn’t any such thing; Clint Barton had always been that intuitive, even if he hadn’t always believed himself to be. And, while he hadn’t gotten it all correct, he’d come fucking close.
“Please.” He waved the notion off. “But it’s pretty obvious that you have a lot on your mind, and it’s not hard to guess what it is.”
Rhys sighed. He could trust these people, but a part of him wasn’t ready to vomit out all his worries yet, not when Nathan was still laying there, recovering from the wound that Rhys had been at least partially responsible for.
No, he really wanted to speak to Ianto. While Clint was a good friend, he’d been primarily assigned to London, and then had become SHIELD liaison when Phil Coulson had begun rebuilding. Ianto, though, had been Rhys’ superior and close friend throughout his time with Torchwood. Hell, it had been Ianto who had recruited him, and who had trusted him enough to reveal his real self to him, a long time ago on the roof of a Cardiff pub. That night had been the first step into a larger world, even if it had eventually lost him his fiancée it had turned out all for the best. He’d been a valued member of a team that was as close as family, and if there was one thing Rhys was going to miss more than anything it was that closeness.
Nothing was ever going to be the same. Even if Jack and Ianto were there, the rest of the team were dead and dust except for Clint, who by whoever’s grace had been reborn into a dragon form so many years after he’d passed away.
But then, maybe being the same was overrated.
Clint was looking at him knowingly, and Rhys rolled his eyes. “You are a pain in my arse, Clint.”
“So not much has changed, then?” Gareth asked innocently.
That earned the dragon a pillow in the face, while everyone else laughed.