Fic: Frozen, PG-13, Part 4 (5/10)
Title: Frozen
Pairing: Only what's seen in canon
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The team must discover the cause of the snowstorm burying Cardiff before it becomes a frozen wasteland.
Spoilers: Up to and including "Combat".
Author's Notes: Betaed, as always, by the amazing lon_dubh. This is an experiment for me. I usually write character study-type pieces, but I wanted this to be more like one of the Torchwood novels.
Disclaimer: Don't own any of them. If I did, let's just say that "Exit Wounds" would have ended very differently.
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Owen rummaged through the drawers of a writing desk he found in the corner of the lounge. So far, he'd discovered nothing but old letters, greeting cards, and a small photo album. The pictures inside looked to be from late 1960s or early 1970s. He found nothing that looked to be of alien origin and decide to move on to the next room on the first floor.
The door swung open with a groan of rusty hinges to reveal a library. Floor to ceiling shelves still held books, now dusty and cobweb covered. He narrowed the setting on the scanner and ran it over the shelves. It didn't pick up anything and he moved to search the desk.
"Owen!"
Gwen's scream from above set him flying out of the library and up the stairs, his heart in his throat. A door at the end of the hall stood open. Owen ran full tilt down the hall and burst into the room, gun drawn. Gwen's eyes were huge as she pointed to the corner. "It's Geraint Jeffrys. He must have come in here to get away from something." She gestured at the now broken chair on the floor near the door. “That was under the door handle.”
The boy huddled in the corner of the room, knees pulled to his chest and arms wrapped around them, his eyes open but unseeing. A dark stain ran from under his hairline above his left temple down over his cheek. Owen dropped to his knees and pressed his fingers to the boy's neck. "He's dead."
"What's he holding?" She came around to kneel beside him.
Together, they pried a shoebox-size black box from the boy's arms. Several lights blinked seemingly at random on the top of it and a continuous scroll of symbols ran across the LED-like screen just above the lights.
Owen activated his comms. "Jack, we found the boy. He's dead. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say from a combination of a blow to the head and exposure."
"See anythi- -at might be caus- this?" Jack's voice cut in and out because of interference from the storm.
Owen laughed sharply. "Sure. The whole bloody house. It's full of alien tech."
"Great," Jack replied wearily. "Any- specific that looks -ike it might-" The end of Jack's sentence disappeared in a crackle of static.
Gwen jumped in. "The boy was clinging to a blinking black box," she told Jack. "Looks promising."
"-ay. Bring- and the b- back. We c- sav-ge the house- You- drive ca-ful."
Owen rolled his eyes. "I will, Jack," he replied, but the connection had already disappeared. He tried to activate his comms again, but heard nothing. He turned toward the body.
"We're gonna need a body bag and a containment unit," Gwen finally said.
Owen nodded. "You wanna go get 'em?" He didn't relish going back out into the storm. Gwen threw him a scathing look. "You'd rather stay in here with him?"
"Fine. But I'm not helping you put him in it." She jabbed a pointed finger at him before stalking out.
She returned nearly ten minutes later, carrying a neatly folded white parcel. "No containment units," she reported, tossing him the bag. Owen had taken the time she'd been gone to do a quick exam of Geraint's body and found the cut hidden under his hair on his forehead. He'd also laid out the body in preparation for putting in it the body bag.
"What?" Owen caught the bag and spread it on the floor next to the body. "There's always one in the SUV."
She shook her head. "I looked everywhere. Someone must have forgotten to put a new one in last time we used one. Who's turn was it to restock the SUV?"
"Obviously not Ianto. He never forgets." Owen maneuvered the boy's small body onto the bag, Gwen holding it open to help. He tried not to think too much about the size of the boy and how he barely filled the bag.
"It wasn't my turn," Gwen insisted. Thinking on it, Owen suspected it might have been his turn, but he didn’t mention it. "I'll bet it was Tosh," she continued. "She's been distracted by that new program lately."
"Right." He zipped up the bag and turned to Gwen. “You ready?”
She picked up the box, turning it over and looking at it. "It's quite a bit heavier than it looks."
Owen lifted the body bag. "So's he," he grunted and staggered out of the room, Gwen following behind.
The two of them maneuvered the bag through the opening in the door and carried it to the SUV. They lifted it into the boot and Gwen retrieved the box from the doorway. She tucked it into a corner of the boot so it wouldn't slide around and closed the hatch.
They climbed into the SUV. Gwen turned to Owen. "Do you think this is going to follow us home?"
"This hole?" She nodded. He shrugged. "It'd be nice. I hate driving in snow."
He turned the heat on full blast and left the house grounds. Sure enough, Owen found himself driving down the road surrounded by snow, but in a generally clear circle of road. He grinned at Gwen. "You know, this isn't too bad. If it stays clear all the way to Cardiff for us, we should be back in no time." He let his speed come up just a bit.
Gwen looked nervous. "Be careful, Owen. You don't know what the road's like underneath the snow." Just as she said this, Owen felt the SUV tires hit a patch of black ice on a bend in the road. The tires spun on the ice and the vehicle skidded severely. The last thing Owen had been aware of before everything went black had been Gwen's scream and the feeling of déjà vu as the SUV slid straight towards a large tree.
Pairing: Only what's seen in canon
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The team must discover the cause of the snowstorm burying Cardiff before it becomes a frozen wasteland.
Spoilers: Up to and including "Combat".
Author's Notes: Betaed, as always, by the amazing lon_dubh. This is an experiment for me. I usually write character study-type pieces, but I wanted this to be more like one of the Torchwood novels.
Disclaimer: Don't own any of them. If I did, let's just say that "Exit Wounds" would have ended very differently.
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Owen rummaged through the drawers of a writing desk he found in the corner of the lounge. So far, he'd discovered nothing but old letters, greeting cards, and a small photo album. The pictures inside looked to be from late 1960s or early 1970s. He found nothing that looked to be of alien origin and decide to move on to the next room on the first floor.
The door swung open with a groan of rusty hinges to reveal a library. Floor to ceiling shelves still held books, now dusty and cobweb covered. He narrowed the setting on the scanner and ran it over the shelves. It didn't pick up anything and he moved to search the desk.
"Owen!"
Gwen's scream from above set him flying out of the library and up the stairs, his heart in his throat. A door at the end of the hall stood open. Owen ran full tilt down the hall and burst into the room, gun drawn. Gwen's eyes were huge as she pointed to the corner. "It's Geraint Jeffrys. He must have come in here to get away from something." She gestured at the now broken chair on the floor near the door. “That was under the door handle.”
The boy huddled in the corner of the room, knees pulled to his chest and arms wrapped around them, his eyes open but unseeing. A dark stain ran from under his hairline above his left temple down over his cheek. Owen dropped to his knees and pressed his fingers to the boy's neck. "He's dead."
"What's he holding?" She came around to kneel beside him.
Together, they pried a shoebox-size black box from the boy's arms. Several lights blinked seemingly at random on the top of it and a continuous scroll of symbols ran across the LED-like screen just above the lights.
Owen activated his comms. "Jack, we found the boy. He's dead. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say from a combination of a blow to the head and exposure."
"See anythi- -at might be caus- this?" Jack's voice cut in and out because of interference from the storm.
Owen laughed sharply. "Sure. The whole bloody house. It's full of alien tech."
"Great," Jack replied wearily. "Any- specific that looks -ike it might-" The end of Jack's sentence disappeared in a crackle of static.
Gwen jumped in. "The boy was clinging to a blinking black box," she told Jack. "Looks promising."
"-ay. Bring- and the b- back. We c- sav-ge the house- You- drive ca-ful."
Owen rolled his eyes. "I will, Jack," he replied, but the connection had already disappeared. He tried to activate his comms again, but heard nothing. He turned toward the body.
"We're gonna need a body bag and a containment unit," Gwen finally said.
Owen nodded. "You wanna go get 'em?" He didn't relish going back out into the storm. Gwen threw him a scathing look. "You'd rather stay in here with him?"
"Fine. But I'm not helping you put him in it." She jabbed a pointed finger at him before stalking out.
She returned nearly ten minutes later, carrying a neatly folded white parcel. "No containment units," she reported, tossing him the bag. Owen had taken the time she'd been gone to do a quick exam of Geraint's body and found the cut hidden under his hair on his forehead. He'd also laid out the body in preparation for putting in it the body bag.
"What?" Owen caught the bag and spread it on the floor next to the body. "There's always one in the SUV."
She shook her head. "I looked everywhere. Someone must have forgotten to put a new one in last time we used one. Who's turn was it to restock the SUV?"
"Obviously not Ianto. He never forgets." Owen maneuvered the boy's small body onto the bag, Gwen holding it open to help. He tried not to think too much about the size of the boy and how he barely filled the bag.
"It wasn't my turn," Gwen insisted. Thinking on it, Owen suspected it might have been his turn, but he didn’t mention it. "I'll bet it was Tosh," she continued. "She's been distracted by that new program lately."
"Right." He zipped up the bag and turned to Gwen. “You ready?”
She picked up the box, turning it over and looking at it. "It's quite a bit heavier than it looks."
Owen lifted the body bag. "So's he," he grunted and staggered out of the room, Gwen following behind.
The two of them maneuvered the bag through the opening in the door and carried it to the SUV. They lifted it into the boot and Gwen retrieved the box from the doorway. She tucked it into a corner of the boot so it wouldn't slide around and closed the hatch.
They climbed into the SUV. Gwen turned to Owen. "Do you think this is going to follow us home?"
"This hole?" She nodded. He shrugged. "It'd be nice. I hate driving in snow."
He turned the heat on full blast and left the house grounds. Sure enough, Owen found himself driving down the road surrounded by snow, but in a generally clear circle of road. He grinned at Gwen. "You know, this isn't too bad. If it stays clear all the way to Cardiff for us, we should be back in no time." He let his speed come up just a bit.
Gwen looked nervous. "Be careful, Owen. You don't know what the road's like underneath the snow." Just as she said this, Owen felt the SUV tires hit a patch of black ice on a bend in the road. The tires spun on the ice and the vehicle skidded severely. The last thing Owen had been aware of before everything went black had been Gwen's scream and the feeling of déjà vu as the SUV slid straight towards a large tree.