Title: More Things In This World... 06/08
Fandom: Torchwood/Tokio Hotel RPS
Pairing: Bill/Tom, Jack/Ianto, Bill/Tom/Jack/Ianto
Rating: NC17/18
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, the real people in it are used without their permission and I definitely don't own them or have any copyright to any part of any of them. I do not believe any of this happened, is likely to happen or should happen it is simply a story created around known facts about those involved.Torchwood characters and situations were created and are owned by RusselT. Davis and the BBC. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: twincest, alien sex
Summary: Promoting the band means travelling all over the UK and Tokio Hotel have ended up in Cardiff for a TV interview and some signings. Thanks to the effects of a rogue alien device they run into Torchwood.
Author's Notes: This fic comes from my seemingly deep psychological need to do all sorts of bizarre things to Bill, and sometimes to Tom too. It has warring aliens, cocoons, torture and sexy boy love, I do hope you enjoy reading it :). Thanks to Soph for the beta.
Link:
Chapter Listing Chapter 6 - Questions
There was pressure in his head and although it wasn't painful it was definitely uncomfortable as Bill opened his eyes and blinked. His thoughts were muddled and unhelpful to begin with, but then the ceiling above him resolved into something white and metallic and very unfamiliar, which was the point things started to come back. It was also the point he tried to move and discovered he couldn't.
He tried to lift his arms and then move his legs and, when neither worked, he panicked. When he couldn't even move his head from side to side, he really panicked and he was terrified. He could feel restraints around his wrists, ankles, thighs, biceps and chest as well as some sort of vice holding his head. It was like something out of a movie, only he couldn't just bury his face in a cushion because it was too scary.
"He's awake," he heard someone say and he understood it perfectly, but something niggled at the back of his mind; it was as if part of him didn't think he should have been able to.
A face leant into his field of vision, a face that was definitely not human. Scales covered the cheeks on both sides of the man's features and the eyes were bright green like Bill had only seen in contact lenses. He would have shied away if he had been able to.
"What is your name?"
The question seemed to be placed right in his brain as if it was the most important thing in the world, but it confused him.
"Bill," he said, almost compelled to do so, "Bill Kaulitz."
"That is a human name, your real name."
Bill didn't understand; he didn't seem to be able to think about anything but the questions, even though his fear lurked in the pit of his stomach like a great weight.
"That is my real name," he said, finding it difficult to say.
"Your Neranian name," the voice demanded.
The pressure in his head intensified for a moment as he found no answer to the question.
"I don't have one," he said, but the words caught in his throat even as he forced them out.
It was so difficult to not answer the question that his mind seemed to be trying to come up with a response even when he didn't have one.
"He must have been conditioned," he heard someone else say, but it was kind of fuzzy, not like the questions.
"What is your designation?" was the next question.
He frowned.
"He's resisting," one of the voices said, "we should turn up the intensity."
"Wait," the other said sharply.
"I ... I don’t understand," Bill said with difficulty.
"Your purpose," the voice tried again and Bill still didn't know how to reply, "your duty," another try. "What do you do?"
That finally made sense.
"Singer," he said, incredibly relieved to be able to answer.
"His cover must be deeply engrained."
"What do you do for the Neranians?"
The pressure in Bill's head increased again when he had no answer.
"Father," was about all his brain could come up with to do with Neranian, "is Neranian. Explorer."
"We're not interested in your father," the voice said, "we want to know about you. You are stronger than any Neranian warrior on record, why?"
He was becoming more and more confused.
"Hybrid," he said, producing the only information he had from the conversation in the board room.
"Are there more of you?"
"Yes," Bill's mind flashed with a picture of Tom.
"How many?"
"One," he replied, totally unable to resist.
"The other one that showed defensive behaviour," one of the voices observed.
"Why were you created?"
That was a question Bill just couldn't answer; it was so bizarre that he just couldn't find anything to say. He struggled, but he didn't know.
"He's resisting again," one of his captors observed.
"Turn it up," the other replied.
The pressure in Bill's head increased and this time it hurt and it stayed there. It left him gasping and trying to pull away from his restraints to shy away from the pain.
"Why were you created?" the question was repeated.
Bill whimpered, totally unable to get away or to answer.
"Are you a weapon?"
"No," he replied in an almost explosive sound, relieved that he could answer.
"Were you designed for war?"
"No."
"Were you created to attack the Sesscar?"
"No."
It felt like his whole head was being squeezed and he moaned at the intensity of the sensation.
"How were you engineered?"
It was another question that made Bill's mind scrabble for an answer.
"Wasn't engineered," he said even as whatever was being done to him made him pay for the denial.
"Neranians do not breed outside their own race," he heard the conversation continue, "he has to be lying."
"At that intensity that is impossible," the second voice said.
"Surprise," he forced himself to say, desperate for some release and needing to explain, "didn't know ... mother human."
"What do you mean?" the voice lanced into his head. "Explain."
"Dad didn't know it was possible," he said, finding it easier to speak now that he had been asked directly. "We were a surprise."
"How did the Neranians make you so powerful?"
"Didn't," Bill said, doing his best to speak, "you did."
"Explain."
The voice was like ice and fire into his brain at the same time.
"Meyons," he repeated what he had heard; "was human; meyons woke up Neranian genes."
There was a hurried conversation then that his beleaguered mind couldn't follow.
"Stop this," a third voice joined the conversation and dragged Bill's attention with its insistency. "He's just a boy."
"This thing could be a threat to our entire race," one of the other voices all but snarled back. "If those vermin have decided to engineer soldiers to do their fighting for them they could decimate us before we even saw it coming."
"We have only your suspicions to suggest anything of the sort is going on," the third voice replied. "I understand my duty, but the tests confirm it; his hormone levels indicate he is less than six months out of the cocoon."
"That is impossible," one of the other voices said; "no child could have that kind of power. It must be a side effect of the hybridisation."
More words were exchanged, but Bill was beginning to lose focus again.
"How old are you?"
The question was from the first voice and it lanced straight into his head. The pressure was almost unbearable and Bill whimpered as it reverberated through him.
"Seventeen," he said desperately, needing to answer.
"Stop this now," the third voice demanded.
"He is a weapon."
"He's just a child," the third voice said firmly, "and we are not monsters."
Bill couldn't help whimpering again as his head threatened to explode.
"He's an innocent child," the third voice insisted; "everything he has told you is true."
"What is your purpose?"
Bill actually cried out at that. It was almost shouted and it hurt and he didn't really know the answer. It was like asking 'why are we here' and too many possibilities presented themselves.
"To make music," were the words that were dragged out of him.
Suddenly the pressure was gone and he felt his whole body sag. It was such a relief that nothing else mattered. A thousand thoughts seemed to be trying to cram into his head at the same time as he could think again, but he was so light headed and confused that nothing made any sense as all. There was pressure against his arm, a hissing noise and then everything began to fade, for which his tortured mind was very grateful.
====
They didn't need the hub's alarms which had been calibrated to the Sesscar teleport frequencies, because Jorg and Tom had reacted before the technology. Jack had no idea why Neranian's were sensitive to the particular method of transport, but it was quite obvious they were and everyone was on the move before the alarm even sounded. What they found was a room with only Gustav slowly climbing up off the floor.
"Where's Bill?" Tom demanded instantly and Jack was afraid he knew the answer.
"They took him," Gustav said, clearly angry even as the kid wiped blood off his face. "There were two of them. I'm sorry, Tom."
Jack didn't need to be able to see Tom's face to know that the twin was furious; the rage seemed to come off the kid in waves. What did surprise him was that none of it was aimed at Gustav though. He had been in a lot of crisis situations in his time and when bad things happened people tended to blame the closest target and he was very grateful he didn't have to deal with that as well. His respect for the German young men went up another notch as he watched them group together.
"I'll kill them," Tom said, turning back to the room, "I'll fucking annihilate them."
He had seen many people angry in his time; Jack had seen people insane with rage, but he had never seen what he saw when he looked into Tom's eyes. The only adjective he could think of was 'apocalyptic' and he saw his own people shrink away from that gaze. What was interesting was the way Tom's friends didn't.
"Tom," Jorg stepped in just before Jack was about to try and diffuse the situation a little, "you need to calm down."
"Calm down?" the fury was tangible in Tom's voice. "They've taken Bill, Dad; I will never calm down."
Jack watched, waiting to see what would happen. It was as if everyone in the room could sense the knife edge they were standing on and no one except Tom and Jorg moved a muscle.
"Tom," this time Jorg used a tone with the bite of command; "listen to me. If you want to help Bill you need to calm down now. You are reacting, you're not thinking."
"They have Bill," Tom repeated, as if it explained everything and there didn't seem to be a lot of rationality in Tom's voice.
"I know," Jorg said, taking a step towards his son, "and we will get him back, but you need to let the anger go. You will hurt yourself and you could hurt other people as well if you don't."
The tension in the room was so thick Jack imagined that he could see it. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up and he could feel the danger in the room. It was clear that the old adage of never come between twins was true.
"I have to protect him," Tom said, clearly not quite with it; "that's what I do."
"And you will," Jorg said and even Jack believed him, "but first you have to let go of the rage. You can't help Bill as a berserker."
Jack held his breath, watching Tom intently, and then Tom blinked. It was like someone had just turned the lights back on and he realised how tight his grip on his gun had been. All in all a little startling and he actually breathed a sigh of relief when Jorg stepped up to his son and pulled Tom into a hug.
"Tosh," he said as Jorg dealt with Tom, "I don’t care how you do it, but find where the hell they're hiding."
Tosh nodded and went to leave.
"The sensors on my ship will be able to find them," Jorg said, turning and looking straight at Jack.
If it had been anyone else, Jack would have asked why Jorg hadn't mentioned this before, but he could see the man's reasons in his eyes. It had obviously cost Jorg a lot to admit that much even with his son missing, so he just nodded and excepted the man's offer.
"How long?" Jack asked.
"An hour," Jorg replied, "maybe two."
"Tosh," Jack said as he assessed the situation in his head, "you work on it as well. We meet back here when we know where they are."
There was no other option; they were going to get Bill back.
====
Tom was still angry and he was going stir crazy by the time his father returned to the Torchwood base. His reaction to Bill's kidnapping had frightened him a little, but that didn't dull how scared and furious he was; it was just that he had it under better control now.
His father appeared out of thin air in the boardroom, gaining everyone's attention, and stepped up to the table, placing on it the teleport device. It had been nearly two and a half hours and all Tom knew was that his father had been delayed returning.
"It will take three people," his dad said, looking to Jack; "I couldn't increase it's capabilities any more than that. With a week and the right tools, maybe, but this it the best I can do given the time constraints."
"Gwen, Ianto," Jack said, turning to his people, "we're going on a trip."
Tom went to object instantly, but his father beat him to it.
"It has to be in contact with my DNA to function," his dad said in a no nonsense tone. "The safety measure is built into all our potentially hazardous technology."
Jack didn't appear overly impressed.
"They can't disarm me," Tom put his own argument in and did his best to be rational about it.
He felt like telling them he would blow up their whole base before he let them go without him, but he didn't think that would go down too well. Jack was easy going on the surface, but he knew the man would have someone dose him up with something if he deemed it necessary.
"Neither of you are trained for something like this," Jack pointed out.
His dad opened his mouth to say something, but this time Tom was there first. Finding the rage inside, Tom took hold of a little of it and let it out. He really didn't understand how he had deflected the energy beam before, but he knew what it had felt like and he found it again. He held out his hand and the cups and papers on the table scattered, one bouncing off the window so hard it broke.
It was scary quite how exhilarating the action made him feel, but he glared at Jack anyway to make his point. There was no way in hell he was being left behind.
"A passifist and a guitar player," Jack said, pointing out the obvious.
"A father and a twin," his dad countered and Tom moved closer to his father in solidarity. "I choose not to fight, Jack, but that does not mean I cannot do it and I think Tom just proved his point."
Jack clearly didn't like it, but Tom let himself relax just a little when the head of Torchwood finally nodded. It was funny; the whole idea should have scared him witless, but all he could feel was the need to find and help Bill. It had always been the same; when it came to Bill he had always been ready to take on anything, and a ship of alien abductors was no different to him than four boys twice his size in the school play ground. Nothing would ever stop him protecting Bill.
====
Bill sat and stared at the opposite wall, refusing to let his mind turn off. He had woken up in a cell of some kind and he felt terrible. His hands were cramped and uncomfortable where they were covered in some sort of plastic like material, bound into fists and then secured together at the wrists. He guessed that the Sesscar thought he'd have to blow his own hands off to use whatever power he had used before in his current position. His head was aching just slightly more than the rest of his body and he was light headed and threatening to pass out.
Time wasn't something he really had any concept of and he had no idea how long it had been since he was kidnapped. All he could do was pray that someone would come for him. He was afraid of every sound; nothing in his life had prepared him for this and only his last scrap of dignity stopped him breaking down completely.
When the door to his cell opened, he went into panic mode as his fear spiked. He couldn't take anymore, he really couldn't, and he tried to move as far away from the opening as possible. Nothing mattered except getting away, only his abused system had other ideas. The moment he attempted to stand, even a little, his surroundings span and for a moment everything went black.
Someone caught him as he plunged towards the floor and he had no strength to break free. The enemy had him and he didn't want to be questioned anymore, but he couldn't do anything about it. It was more than he could take and his last vestige of control finally broke and the tears came. He was terrified and he didn't care who knew anymore.
For a while all he knew was the fear and the crying; he had to let it out, but it made him pay. When the tears finally died away there was no strength left in him at all; he could barely even lift his head. He realised slowly that he was half sitting on the floor, half being held by strong arms and the person holding him was making a slow clicking noise in their throat that was strangely soothing. The person was kneeling beside him, but he didn’t have the courage to look up.
"You poor child," were the words that finally made him move.
He recognised the voice; it was the third voice, the female voice from his last awakening. Very slowly he moved his head so that he could just about see her face. Bright orange eyes blinked at him. Everything was so surreal and for a while he just looked as he felt himself fading away again.
"Help me," he vaguely heard his companion say, "give me the beaker."
Motor control was beyond him and Bill felt himself being moved into more of a sitting position against the female Sesscar's chest. She seemed to be being very gentle with him, but he didn't really know what she was doing until something was pressed against his mouth.
"Drink, child," she told him in a kind tone, "you need to build your strength."
Liquid hit his lips and he opened his mouth on instinct to find his tongue hit by something that was incredibly sweet. It didn't really have much flavour, it was just very, very sugary and he swallowed it without difficulty. His throat was parched and he coughed as it seemed to almost soak up the liquid directly. The beaker was taken away for a moment while he recovered and then it was placed back again.
It seemed to take an age as the cycle was repeated, drink, pause, recover if necessary, drink, pause and so on until the beaker was completely empty. Bill didn't feel in anyway robust by the time he had finished, but he could feel a little strength seeping back into his body.
"Onto the bed, I think," his companion said, but she didn't seem to be talking to him and he found himself being almost bodily picked up by two sets of hands.
He almost panicked again.
"Relax, child," his benefactor said in a gentle tone, "we are just trying to make you more comfortable. My name is Diosa; I am the chief medical officer."
They put him on the bed which he had originally been sitting on, lying on his side so that his bound hands were not in the way.
"We do not make war on children," Diosa told him while looking him straight in the eye; "your capture was a mistake. You have nothing to fear, I will make sure of that."
Bill wasn't sure he believed her.
"You are not long out of the cocoon are you?" Diosa continued when he just looked at her.
"How long have I been here?" he asked, finding his voice thick and raspy.
"Only a few hours," Diosa said.
"Yesterday," he told her and was surprised to see her eyes open in shock.
Diosa turned immediately towards the door and rattled off a whole bunch of orders that Bill was too bemused to follow. When Diosa turned back she pulled something off her belt and pointed it at his hands. A red light came out of whatever it was and the constricting plastic went loose around his fingers and wrists and the medical officer began to pull it off. All he could do was lie there and watch, barely able to move his fingers even when they were free.
Two other Sesscar appeared pretty quickly and things started happening with a speed he couldn't follow properly. One of the newcomers covered him in a light blanket that seemed incredibly warm, at which point he realised quite how cold he had been; the other put a small patch on his neck and Diosa picked up a strange looking device one of the other two had brought and pointed it at him. He closed his eyes after that, because he didn't have the strength to worry what they were doing.
"Diosa, what the hell do you think you are doing?" another familiar voice dragged him back from the dozing state and had him trying to back away.
"Relax," Diosa said immediately, leaning over him and placing her hand on his shoulder, making the gentle clicking sound again; "you're safe."
He was wary, but Diosa had been nothing but kind to him and he did not really have the strength to struggle, so he lay still as Diosa slowly stood up.
"My job," she said in a level but firm tone and Bill could kind of focus on her and the male Sesscar who had just come in. "He came out of the cocoon yesterday; what we put him through could have killed him."
"Two of my finest warriors are in your infirmary," the male said, "and that creature put them there. Removing his restraints is folly."
"That creature is a boy," Diosa said with a tone that Bill had sometimes heard his mother use with his stepfather, "a scared, helpless boy who doesn't have enough strength to sit up by himself, let alone be a threat. Maraz, it's time to admit that we have made a mistake. He should be returned home as soon as he is fit enough."
"He's more powerful than any Neranian our people have ever seen," Maraz insisted.
"He's a child who defended himself and his family," Diosa replied; "that at least has to mean something to you. He has shown honour and he is only a boy; law dictates that we return him. We are the ones who have broken with tradition by taking him in the first place and I will not allow it to go any further."
"He was an unmitigated threat," Maraz replied, "steps had to be taken."
"Well he's not a threat anymore," Diosa said, holding her ground, "and I will see you in the arena if you try and take him from my care."
Before Maraz could respond to that a wailing noise started and the somewhere a blue light started pulsing on and off.
"Intruders," a voice announced, "we are being invaded, all hands to battle stations."
Bill could feel something in the air and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was power and rage and very familiar.
"Tom," he whispered more to himself than wanting to say it out loud.
"Make sure that cannot get loose," Maraz said shortly and charged out of the room.
Tom was here, Bill knew it without a doubt and he also knew that his twin was so angry that people were going to get hurt. Part of him wanted Tom to cause those who had taken him pain, but Diosa had shown him kindness and he wasn't a vindictive person at heart. He was sure there was only one thing that would stop Tom. Gathering as much strength as he could manage, he reached out and made a clumsy swipe at Diosa's leg. The medical officer turned immediately and crouched down as soon as she saw him looking at her.
"Tom," he tried to verbalise what he was feeling, "looking for me. Have to stop him before people get killed."
Diosa looked at him, her expression very conflicted.
End of Part 6
On to Part 7