Fic: The Oncoming Storm (Slash, AU, Janto 36/40 Act 3/10)
Author: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: strong language, dark
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to DW's "Utopia" and briefly mentions things from DW's "The Last of the Timelords" alternate ending on the DVD and TW's "CJH" "EoD" and "Fragments" but hopefully even without seeing them, the story's fine.
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18. Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36 Act 1/10, Ch 36 Act 2/10
Master Fic List: here
Act III: "Does no one survive?"
Malcassairo
Year 100 trillion…
"We found them, Professor, just where you said they would be. It will be a few hours before we return."
Chantho smiled to herself from the corner furthest from him and Old Woman. The Professor, despite his dismissal of the first signal, had asked the guards to seek out the strange reading with an almost eager air, as if he had been waiting for it all his life. She knew he could never ignore another life in such a dire state. No one should be left out there.
"Did they say who they were?" the Professor asked. He paused from his footprint accelerator measurements.
"No, yet-"
The Professor's eyes unexpectedly flared. "Find out!"
Chantho jumped. "Chan-professor-tho?" she stammered.
Even the guard sounded surprised and there was a pause in the speaker before an answer came. "Very well…professor."
The Professor seemed to have recovered from his 'spell'. He touched his forehead wearily. "Please," he said, subdued now. "Anyone who could have arrived in such a reading may be a man of science."
Chantho brightened, her previous misgivings gone. Another Professor perhaps? Chantho hoped so. It would mean her Professor might have a chance to rest finally.
"I will find out right away," the guard promised, now equally as excited.
The Professor murmured his thanks and sat down heavily by the screen to the radiation room.
"Chan-professor-tho," Chantho approached carefully. Her Professor sat there, looking very far away. "Chan-now you rest? I can watch the particle meter-tho."
"Too much to do. Too much. Too many thoughts," the Professor replied, irritated. He shrugged away her hand on his arm. "All these thoughts in my head. Better that I work."
Thoughts?
"She is right. There will be time to work soon."
Chantho started. Her hearts hammered at the wispy voice that seemingly materialized behind her. She had forgotten Old Woman was there; she had been quiet for so long.
The Professor worried the red-studded ring on his finger. He turned towards the corner.
"Is it them? This beginning you've told me about?" The Professor pulled out a fob watch from his waistcoat and cradled the watch with both hands.
"Now?" he fretted. He stroked it carefully like the connection cables that strung along the walls of processors he had built inside the silo years before Old Woman came.
"Not yet!" Old Woman hissed. "He will see you."
Chantho wasn't sure what they were talking about.
"But all these memories…"
"Leave it!"
To Chantho's surprise, the Professor did.
"It will all come to place like it should…"
"It gets so loud sometimes," the Professor said in a wistful whisper. "I can't have a thought to myself."
"I wish I could hear it," Old Woman sighed. "I searched so long so I could hear it."
They've talked in riddles since Old Woman's arrival. It made Chantho feel like a child again, like when she found her parents and their clan leader were bowed over the table, talking mysteriously about 'the disease'. They had lowered their voices when Chantho skipped into the room.
The clan leader had told Chantho she was going on a nice trip to visit her sister on the far side of the conglomeration. Mother had wept then, but when she tried to embrace Chantho, Father hissed a warning and Mother had pulled away. They hissed back and forth about 'mutation' and again about 'the disease'.
The next day, under the dying sun, Chantho kept looking over her shoulder at her parents as the clan leader with his trembling hands led her away. Mother had kept waving, even, Chantho suspected, when Mother could no longer see her.
It was the last time Chantho ever saw her parents again.
The Professor seemed revived as if he had taken a long rest. He was away from the corner and Old Woman had retreated back to be part of the shadows.
"Come, come, my dear! Work to do! Work to do!" the Professor gestured for her to come closer. "Utopia awaits!"
Chantho cheered up considerably and hurried over with her stack of data cards. As she beamed at her beloved Professor, Chantho thought she could hear Old Woman chuckle. Chantho shivered.
The end of the universe was apparently very dark and very empty.
Ianto leaned against the ship, or the TARDIS as the two called it, and watched the Doctor and Martha Jones chatting it up like it was a relaxing sojourn. The soldiers, they had learned, were on route to find water and were given orders to find the new arrivals when they were sighted on someone's scanners.
The makeshift band of soldiers had stopped, a line of armed hungry looking men like a fence standing on top of the flatbed with the TARDIS and them behind them. The men stood on alert, their hands gripping strange yet oddly familiar rifles as they guarded two soldiers who were climbing down a deep ditch. A headlight had glimmered on a small stream of water.
It was depressing watching dirty-faced men trying to sop up every bit of moisture from the rocky slope and fill the barrel with what they could, with what looked like only trickles. Ianto looked away as the two soldiers carried the barrel between them as if it were made of glass, beaming as if it were diamonds. Ianto turned his focus instead on the Doctor and Martha Jones.
There were times when Ianto felt a shot of irritation as he observed both the Doctor and Martha study their surroundings with open fascination. It was like they didn't remember this trip was not by choice.
Ianto shoved his numb hands deep into his trouser pockets. It was cold here, wherever here was. No one asked. No one, except for Ianto, seemed to care. The other two also didn't seem bothered by the fact that white icy clouds of condensation punctuated their conversation.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ianto knew he was getting looks from both time traveler and comp-God, he couldn't even think of the word. His mouth soured and he thought he could hear Suzie jeering at him.
Ianto knew, like every Torchwood employee in any of the other branches, this was a prime opportunity. To time travel, with the Doctor no less, was a unique opportunity to know more about the enemy.
Wait.
Jack had frequently insisted the Doctor wasn't the enemy of Torchwood. Of course, this was before Ianto found out the Doctor had left Jack on a dying space station. It was all Ianto could do not to punch him again.
Under his shoulders, the TARDIS inexplicably rumbled, low and barely discernible through Ianto's suit, but it was unmistakably a growl.
The Doctor glanced over his shoulder at Ianto. He frowned mildly as if he heard, but that wasn't possible. Was it?
"Lieutenant Geno-Kafe, if you please," a young soldier introduced himself briskly. He held a clipboard (odd how a trillion years later, office supplies seemed to be the dominant remaining technology) with a hand that had only three blackened fingers. "I need your names please for the passenger manifest, of course."
"Of course," the Doctor echoed. He arched an eyebrow over his shoulder to Martha. He smiled brightly at the lieutenant as if he was a host checking his reservation for dinner. "The Doctor." The alien peered at the clipboard. He pursed his lips when Geno-Kafe just stared.
"Doctor…who?" the soldier asked slowly.
Martha snickered when the time traveler scratched his ear.
"Blimey, no matter what time or place in the universe," the alien muttered. "Look, just Doctor. Simple enough, yes? And these are my companions Martha Jones and Ianto Jo-"
"I am not one of your Companions!" Ianto snapped. Martha jumped and stared.
The Doctor didn't even blink. "Right, Martha Jones. He's," the Doctor stuck his thumb towards Ianto, "a hitchhiker. A rather talkative one. A bit ungrateful. Talk, talk, talk…"
Martha cleared her throat.
"Oh yes, Jones, Ianto Jones."
As the soldier scribbled it down with what looked like a piece of charcoal, the Doctor glanced over at Ianto.
"There's a story here that you will tell me, Ianto Jones," the Doctor said low and Ianto couldn't help but bristle.
"Look there, Doctor," Martha suddenly pointed out, drawing the alien's attention away. She indicated to something to their left. Martha stared enchanted at it like it was a sparkling gem. "Is that a city?" She held onto the TARDIS to brace herself and craned her neck above the flatbed guardrail to see better.
The earth looked like it was split apart, cleaved open to reveal the honey-colored rock beneath them. An odd mist shrouded it, giving it an ethereal look.
"What is that?" Ianto asked despite himself. He thought he could see tiny openings dotting the rock.
The Doctor looked ridiculously pleased that Ianto asked. He beamed at Ianto before he squinted to where Martha was pointing. "I daresay it was a city or a hive or a nest. Or a conglomeration." The Doctor nodded to himself, his eyes pinned to the landscape. "Like it was grown," the alien mused out loud. He directed their attention to something as the mist cleared. "But look there, that's like pathways or roads." The gleam in the alien's eyes dulled a fraction. "There must have been some sort of life here before them." The Doctor shrugged with a blasé air that didn't look too convincing to Ianto. "Long ago."
Martha didn't try to hide her expression. Her mouth crinkled downwards, her eyes sad. "All those people?" Martha glanced over her shoulder at the soldiers. Even the soldiers seemed subdued, as if out of respect to the strange, empty city.
The Doctor shook his head. "They were not from here originally," he guessed. The Doctor nodded towards the city. "I suspect this civilization was long gone before humans ever came here."
Ianto watched as the mist swirled around the delicate looking bridges and ledges. There was no wind, yet the mist wrapped itself around the structures like a grieving mother.
"What killed it?" Ianto whispered. His eyes burned and he was thankful the mist thickened and concealed the strange structure.
"Time," the Doctor answered, somber. "Just time. Everything's dying now. All the great civilizations have gone."
It was like something was here, staring through the glow of mist and perhaps age, which compelled them to lower their voices; like the long rows of headstones in the dusk.
"This isn't just night," the Doctor went on. He pointed towards the sky. Ianto and Martha both tilted their heads back. What looked like endless black stared back at them.
"All the stars have burnt up and faded away into nothing."
A heaviness sat in Ianto's gut. This was a glimpse of a future he never thought to see, couldn't begin to imagine. There had been little musing on the end of the universe; the future was too far of a fantastic thought to even try. But here they were, literally a hop from the 21st century and suddenly, this fantastic future was a bit lackluster now.
"But what about the people? Does no one survive?" Martha lamented.
"Some have," Ianto murmured. He watched the soldiers-it was the only way to describe their precise actions and care-as they moved the barrels of collected water to the end of the flatbed closest to the cab. The soldiers gathered around the water, their weapons pointed out.
"Is that it then?" Martha asked. She sounded close to tears. "A few humans collecting night dew to survive?"
"I suppose," the Doctor told her. His eyes were on the men climbing back up onto the truck. "We have to hope life will find a way." The Doctor smiled encouragingly at both of them. "Humans are a very stubborn race."
"Quite literally," Ianto deadpanned as he pointed to a tiny figure speeding across the bottom of a ravine by the ancient city.
The three blinked at the sprinter. A beat later, a rather intimidating crowd of tiny, roaring people with spears and torches were running right behind him.
"Is it me or does that look like a hunt? Come on!" The Doctor, without warning, leapt off the truck.
"You there! What are you doing?"
"Running, apparently!" Martha called out. "Doctor, wait!" There were a couple of calls thrown at them, but she was focused on the Doctor. "Come on, Jones! We have to keep him out of trouble!"
"We?" Ianto yelped, but he found himself stumbling away from the TARDIS. Martha grabbed Ianto's sleeve before he realized it and after a rather ungraceful leap off the flatbed, Ianto found himself skidding on pebbles, chasing after the Doctor.
Somewhere
Present day…
Gwen could feel Owen jostle against her as their SUV rolled over another bump before finally stopping. She grimaced. Three to the backseat and handcuffed had not been ideal. It had been a long ride, long enough, Gwen had found herself drifting. At least, she supposed with a wry grin, they hadn't thrown them into the boot of their car.
"What's so funny?" Owen hissed out of the corner of his mouth.
"Nothing," Gwen answered him, keeping her voice low. "Where do you think we are?" She shrugged sheepishly. "I lost track of the lights and turns. It felt like we crossed water at one point."
Owen glanced over to Tosh who was resting her head on his shoulder. He stared hard at the back of the driver's seat, at their tinted windows, before he turned back to Gwen.
"Hawaii?" Owen bared his teeth at her in one of those cheeky grins he always made after finding Ianto's hidden stash of the good biscuits. "Did you bring your bikini?"
Gwen dug her heel to the toes of his shoe. Before Owen could howl, Tosh's cuffed hands smashed over his opening mouth.
"Keep your voice down," Tosh whispered sharply. "Don't make it worse than it already is!"
"No, because it can get far worse," Owen drawled. He rolled his eyes.
Gwen could see Tosh glaring at him. Owen grinned toothily back at Tosh until she scoffed and look away, to which Owen gave Gwen a quick shake of his head. He had lost count, too. Gwen had noticed his lips moving as they counted what felt like ramps and bridges.
Gwen watched warily as their driver climbed out of the vehicle. The door on her side opened but before Gwen could consider tackling her guard, she saw four others on her side, all armed.
"You first," Owen offered, his mouth twisted to a grin.
Gwen shot him a glare before wiggling out of her seat. She could hear Tosh and Owen climbing out behind her.
"Bloody hell…"
Gwen nodded, mutely agreeing with Owen. She stared at the almost ivory colored, austere-looking building in front of her. The measured clops of rows of horse guards rang on both sides of her. The street was lined with smaller, more regal looking structures, all flanked with their own cavalry. The building they stood before was the only modern looking one and stood intimidating in its height. It filled her entire view with countless dark windows and pale stone.
"Tosh," Gwen swallowed. "I take it this isn't UNIT."
Tosh didn't reply. The skin on Gwen's arms rippled to goose bumps.
"Whitehall Street. Fuck, we're in London," Owen rasped low. "Christ, is this what I think it is?"
Gwen wasn't sure. She gulped in reply. She'd only seen the building on the telly.
"MoD," Tosh murmured with a certainty of having been here before.
Shit. Gwen felt Owen and Tosh lining up besides her to gaze at the stark structure that seemed to grow higher with each glance. It finally hit Gwen. This wasn't a police station or some secret office, this was the bloody Ministry of Defense!
The entrance opened and three people in dark, black suits walked out.
"Are we here for a funeral or an inquisition?" Owen muttered from behind. "I'm underdressed." His Adam's apple bobbed. Owen looked very unhappy. Gwen silently agreed. She lifted her chin up when the three drew closer, two men and one woman. They stopped in front of her.
"No need for introductions. I know who you are," the woman said evenly, unimpressed. It looked like she was the leader, the others deferring to her. "My name is Katherine Stewart. I am the executive assistant to the defense minister."
Gwen's eyes widened when she saw the woman was carrying folders with Torchwood's stamp emblazed across. Bloody hell! How did Stewart get these? She darted a look over to Owen and Tosh. They both gaped at them as well.
"Three," Stewart murmured. She frowned and looked behind Gwen. "I was told there were four. Who's missing?"
Gwen and the others clamped their mouths shut. She swore under her breath when the woman sorted through the folders she held close to her chest and flipped open to reveal a very young-looking Ianto.
"Ianto Jones," the woman muttered. "Formerly of Torchwood London. Where is he?" Stewart loomed over Tosh, who just glared back.
"Sabbatical," Owen piped up. "Thought he’d try his hand on a musical. Doing some sort of-Oi!" Owen stumbled forward a step. He spun around and glowered at the soldier.
"You're not helping," Gwen hissed.
"Was I supposed to?" Owen shot back.
"We had readings from their headquarters," a colonel stepped forward. "We've broke into their CCTV archives-"
"What?" Tosh yelped, outraged.
"Tosh!" Gwen nudged her and Tosh clamped her mouth shut.
"It looks like Jones was with the Doctor."
"Ah." Stewart gave them a lazy smile that made Gwen want to vomit. "Interesting turn of events."
Stewart nodded curtly to the UNIT personnel standing behind them as she pulled off her expensive looking sunglasses. Her eyes looked cool as she considered the three before her.
"Well then, it'll just be three. Mr. Saxon would like to see you now, Torchwood."
Bugger.
Act IV
Additional Notes: Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17 (betaed)
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on. Be sure to read the warnings.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: strong language, dark
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to DW's "Utopia" and briefly mentions things from DW's "The Last of the Timelords" alternate ending on the DVD and TW's "CJH" "EoD" and "Fragments" but hopefully even without seeing them, the story's fine.
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18. Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36 Act 1/10, Ch 36 Act 2/10
Master Fic List: here
Act III: "Does no one survive?"
Malcassairo
Year 100 trillion…
"We found them, Professor, just where you said they would be. It will be a few hours before we return."
Chantho smiled to herself from the corner furthest from him and Old Woman. The Professor, despite his dismissal of the first signal, had asked the guards to seek out the strange reading with an almost eager air, as if he had been waiting for it all his life. She knew he could never ignore another life in such a dire state. No one should be left out there.
"Did they say who they were?" the Professor asked. He paused from his footprint accelerator measurements.
"No, yet-"
The Professor's eyes unexpectedly flared. "Find out!"
Chantho jumped. "Chan-professor-tho?" she stammered.
Even the guard sounded surprised and there was a pause in the speaker before an answer came. "Very well…professor."
The Professor seemed to have recovered from his 'spell'. He touched his forehead wearily. "Please," he said, subdued now. "Anyone who could have arrived in such a reading may be a man of science."
Chantho brightened, her previous misgivings gone. Another Professor perhaps? Chantho hoped so. It would mean her Professor might have a chance to rest finally.
"I will find out right away," the guard promised, now equally as excited.
The Professor murmured his thanks and sat down heavily by the screen to the radiation room.
"Chan-professor-tho," Chantho approached carefully. Her Professor sat there, looking very far away. "Chan-now you rest? I can watch the particle meter-tho."
"Too much to do. Too much. Too many thoughts," the Professor replied, irritated. He shrugged away her hand on his arm. "All these thoughts in my head. Better that I work."
Thoughts?
"She is right. There will be time to work soon."
Chantho started. Her hearts hammered at the wispy voice that seemingly materialized behind her. She had forgotten Old Woman was there; she had been quiet for so long.
The Professor worried the red-studded ring on his finger. He turned towards the corner.
"Is it them? This beginning you've told me about?" The Professor pulled out a fob watch from his waistcoat and cradled the watch with both hands.
"Now?" he fretted. He stroked it carefully like the connection cables that strung along the walls of processors he had built inside the silo years before Old Woman came.
"Not yet!" Old Woman hissed. "He will see you."
Chantho wasn't sure what they were talking about.
"But all these memories…"
"Leave it!"
To Chantho's surprise, the Professor did.
"It will all come to place like it should…"
"It gets so loud sometimes," the Professor said in a wistful whisper. "I can't have a thought to myself."
"I wish I could hear it," Old Woman sighed. "I searched so long so I could hear it."
They've talked in riddles since Old Woman's arrival. It made Chantho feel like a child again, like when she found her parents and their clan leader were bowed over the table, talking mysteriously about 'the disease'. They had lowered their voices when Chantho skipped into the room.
The clan leader had told Chantho she was going on a nice trip to visit her sister on the far side of the conglomeration. Mother had wept then, but when she tried to embrace Chantho, Father hissed a warning and Mother had pulled away. They hissed back and forth about 'mutation' and again about 'the disease'.
The next day, under the dying sun, Chantho kept looking over her shoulder at her parents as the clan leader with his trembling hands led her away. Mother had kept waving, even, Chantho suspected, when Mother could no longer see her.
It was the last time Chantho ever saw her parents again.
The Professor seemed revived as if he had taken a long rest. He was away from the corner and Old Woman had retreated back to be part of the shadows.
"Come, come, my dear! Work to do! Work to do!" the Professor gestured for her to come closer. "Utopia awaits!"
Chantho cheered up considerably and hurried over with her stack of data cards. As she beamed at her beloved Professor, Chantho thought she could hear Old Woman chuckle. Chantho shivered.
The end of the universe was apparently very dark and very empty.
Ianto leaned against the ship, or the TARDIS as the two called it, and watched the Doctor and Martha Jones chatting it up like it was a relaxing sojourn. The soldiers, they had learned, were on route to find water and were given orders to find the new arrivals when they were sighted on someone's scanners.
The makeshift band of soldiers had stopped, a line of armed hungry looking men like a fence standing on top of the flatbed with the TARDIS and them behind them. The men stood on alert, their hands gripping strange yet oddly familiar rifles as they guarded two soldiers who were climbing down a deep ditch. A headlight had glimmered on a small stream of water.
It was depressing watching dirty-faced men trying to sop up every bit of moisture from the rocky slope and fill the barrel with what they could, with what looked like only trickles. Ianto looked away as the two soldiers carried the barrel between them as if it were made of glass, beaming as if it were diamonds. Ianto turned his focus instead on the Doctor and Martha Jones.
There were times when Ianto felt a shot of irritation as he observed both the Doctor and Martha study their surroundings with open fascination. It was like they didn't remember this trip was not by choice.
Ianto shoved his numb hands deep into his trouser pockets. It was cold here, wherever here was. No one asked. No one, except for Ianto, seemed to care. The other two also didn't seem bothered by the fact that white icy clouds of condensation punctuated their conversation.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ianto knew he was getting looks from both time traveler and comp-God, he couldn't even think of the word. His mouth soured and he thought he could hear Suzie jeering at him.
Ianto knew, like every Torchwood employee in any of the other branches, this was a prime opportunity. To time travel, with the Doctor no less, was a unique opportunity to know more about the enemy.
Wait.
Jack had frequently insisted the Doctor wasn't the enemy of Torchwood. Of course, this was before Ianto found out the Doctor had left Jack on a dying space station. It was all Ianto could do not to punch him again.
Under his shoulders, the TARDIS inexplicably rumbled, low and barely discernible through Ianto's suit, but it was unmistakably a growl.
The Doctor glanced over his shoulder at Ianto. He frowned mildly as if he heard, but that wasn't possible. Was it?
"Lieutenant Geno-Kafe, if you please," a young soldier introduced himself briskly. He held a clipboard (odd how a trillion years later, office supplies seemed to be the dominant remaining technology) with a hand that had only three blackened fingers. "I need your names please for the passenger manifest, of course."
"Of course," the Doctor echoed. He arched an eyebrow over his shoulder to Martha. He smiled brightly at the lieutenant as if he was a host checking his reservation for dinner. "The Doctor." The alien peered at the clipboard. He pursed his lips when Geno-Kafe just stared.
"Doctor…who?" the soldier asked slowly.
Martha snickered when the time traveler scratched his ear.
"Blimey, no matter what time or place in the universe," the alien muttered. "Look, just Doctor. Simple enough, yes? And these are my companions Martha Jones and Ianto Jo-"
"I am not one of your Companions!" Ianto snapped. Martha jumped and stared.
The Doctor didn't even blink. "Right, Martha Jones. He's," the Doctor stuck his thumb towards Ianto, "a hitchhiker. A rather talkative one. A bit ungrateful. Talk, talk, talk…"
Martha cleared her throat.
"Oh yes, Jones, Ianto Jones."
As the soldier scribbled it down with what looked like a piece of charcoal, the Doctor glanced over at Ianto.
"There's a story here that you will tell me, Ianto Jones," the Doctor said low and Ianto couldn't help but bristle.
"Look there, Doctor," Martha suddenly pointed out, drawing the alien's attention away. She indicated to something to their left. Martha stared enchanted at it like it was a sparkling gem. "Is that a city?" She held onto the TARDIS to brace herself and craned her neck above the flatbed guardrail to see better.
The earth looked like it was split apart, cleaved open to reveal the honey-colored rock beneath them. An odd mist shrouded it, giving it an ethereal look.
"What is that?" Ianto asked despite himself. He thought he could see tiny openings dotting the rock.
The Doctor looked ridiculously pleased that Ianto asked. He beamed at Ianto before he squinted to where Martha was pointing. "I daresay it was a city or a hive or a nest. Or a conglomeration." The Doctor nodded to himself, his eyes pinned to the landscape. "Like it was grown," the alien mused out loud. He directed their attention to something as the mist cleared. "But look there, that's like pathways or roads." The gleam in the alien's eyes dulled a fraction. "There must have been some sort of life here before them." The Doctor shrugged with a blasé air that didn't look too convincing to Ianto. "Long ago."
Martha didn't try to hide her expression. Her mouth crinkled downwards, her eyes sad. "All those people?" Martha glanced over her shoulder at the soldiers. Even the soldiers seemed subdued, as if out of respect to the strange, empty city.
The Doctor shook his head. "They were not from here originally," he guessed. The Doctor nodded towards the city. "I suspect this civilization was long gone before humans ever came here."
Ianto watched as the mist swirled around the delicate looking bridges and ledges. There was no wind, yet the mist wrapped itself around the structures like a grieving mother.
"What killed it?" Ianto whispered. His eyes burned and he was thankful the mist thickened and concealed the strange structure.
"Time," the Doctor answered, somber. "Just time. Everything's dying now. All the great civilizations have gone."
It was like something was here, staring through the glow of mist and perhaps age, which compelled them to lower their voices; like the long rows of headstones in the dusk.
"This isn't just night," the Doctor went on. He pointed towards the sky. Ianto and Martha both tilted their heads back. What looked like endless black stared back at them.
"All the stars have burnt up and faded away into nothing."
A heaviness sat in Ianto's gut. This was a glimpse of a future he never thought to see, couldn't begin to imagine. There had been little musing on the end of the universe; the future was too far of a fantastic thought to even try. But here they were, literally a hop from the 21st century and suddenly, this fantastic future was a bit lackluster now.
"But what about the people? Does no one survive?" Martha lamented.
"Some have," Ianto murmured. He watched the soldiers-it was the only way to describe their precise actions and care-as they moved the barrels of collected water to the end of the flatbed closest to the cab. The soldiers gathered around the water, their weapons pointed out.
"Is that it then?" Martha asked. She sounded close to tears. "A few humans collecting night dew to survive?"
"I suppose," the Doctor told her. His eyes were on the men climbing back up onto the truck. "We have to hope life will find a way." The Doctor smiled encouragingly at both of them. "Humans are a very stubborn race."
"Quite literally," Ianto deadpanned as he pointed to a tiny figure speeding across the bottom of a ravine by the ancient city.
The three blinked at the sprinter. A beat later, a rather intimidating crowd of tiny, roaring people with spears and torches were running right behind him.
"Is it me or does that look like a hunt? Come on!" The Doctor, without warning, leapt off the truck.
"You there! What are you doing?"
"Running, apparently!" Martha called out. "Doctor, wait!" There were a couple of calls thrown at them, but she was focused on the Doctor. "Come on, Jones! We have to keep him out of trouble!"
"We?" Ianto yelped, but he found himself stumbling away from the TARDIS. Martha grabbed Ianto's sleeve before he realized it and after a rather ungraceful leap off the flatbed, Ianto found himself skidding on pebbles, chasing after the Doctor.
Somewhere
Present day…
Gwen could feel Owen jostle against her as their SUV rolled over another bump before finally stopping. She grimaced. Three to the backseat and handcuffed had not been ideal. It had been a long ride, long enough, Gwen had found herself drifting. At least, she supposed with a wry grin, they hadn't thrown them into the boot of their car.
"What's so funny?" Owen hissed out of the corner of his mouth.
"Nothing," Gwen answered him, keeping her voice low. "Where do you think we are?" She shrugged sheepishly. "I lost track of the lights and turns. It felt like we crossed water at one point."
Owen glanced over to Tosh who was resting her head on his shoulder. He stared hard at the back of the driver's seat, at their tinted windows, before he turned back to Gwen.
"Hawaii?" Owen bared his teeth at her in one of those cheeky grins he always made after finding Ianto's hidden stash of the good biscuits. "Did you bring your bikini?"
Gwen dug her heel to the toes of his shoe. Before Owen could howl, Tosh's cuffed hands smashed over his opening mouth.
"Keep your voice down," Tosh whispered sharply. "Don't make it worse than it already is!"
"No, because it can get far worse," Owen drawled. He rolled his eyes.
Gwen could see Tosh glaring at him. Owen grinned toothily back at Tosh until she scoffed and look away, to which Owen gave Gwen a quick shake of his head. He had lost count, too. Gwen had noticed his lips moving as they counted what felt like ramps and bridges.
Gwen watched warily as their driver climbed out of the vehicle. The door on her side opened but before Gwen could consider tackling her guard, she saw four others on her side, all armed.
"You first," Owen offered, his mouth twisted to a grin.
Gwen shot him a glare before wiggling out of her seat. She could hear Tosh and Owen climbing out behind her.
"Bloody hell…"
Gwen nodded, mutely agreeing with Owen. She stared at the almost ivory colored, austere-looking building in front of her. The measured clops of rows of horse guards rang on both sides of her. The street was lined with smaller, more regal looking structures, all flanked with their own cavalry. The building they stood before was the only modern looking one and stood intimidating in its height. It filled her entire view with countless dark windows and pale stone.
"Tosh," Gwen swallowed. "I take it this isn't UNIT."
Tosh didn't reply. The skin on Gwen's arms rippled to goose bumps.
"Whitehall Street. Fuck, we're in London," Owen rasped low. "Christ, is this what I think it is?"
Gwen wasn't sure. She gulped in reply. She'd only seen the building on the telly.
"MoD," Tosh murmured with a certainty of having been here before.
Shit. Gwen felt Owen and Tosh lining up besides her to gaze at the stark structure that seemed to grow higher with each glance. It finally hit Gwen. This wasn't a police station or some secret office, this was the bloody Ministry of Defense!
The entrance opened and three people in dark, black suits walked out.
"Are we here for a funeral or an inquisition?" Owen muttered from behind. "I'm underdressed." His Adam's apple bobbed. Owen looked very unhappy. Gwen silently agreed. She lifted her chin up when the three drew closer, two men and one woman. They stopped in front of her.
"No need for introductions. I know who you are," the woman said evenly, unimpressed. It looked like she was the leader, the others deferring to her. "My name is Katherine Stewart. I am the executive assistant to the defense minister."
Gwen's eyes widened when she saw the woman was carrying folders with Torchwood's stamp emblazed across. Bloody hell! How did Stewart get these? She darted a look over to Owen and Tosh. They both gaped at them as well.
"Three," Stewart murmured. She frowned and looked behind Gwen. "I was told there were four. Who's missing?"
Gwen and the others clamped their mouths shut. She swore under her breath when the woman sorted through the folders she held close to her chest and flipped open to reveal a very young-looking Ianto.
"Ianto Jones," the woman muttered. "Formerly of Torchwood London. Where is he?" Stewart loomed over Tosh, who just glared back.
"Sabbatical," Owen piped up. "Thought he’d try his hand on a musical. Doing some sort of-Oi!" Owen stumbled forward a step. He spun around and glowered at the soldier.
"You're not helping," Gwen hissed.
"Was I supposed to?" Owen shot back.
"We had readings from their headquarters," a colonel stepped forward. "We've broke into their CCTV archives-"
"What?" Tosh yelped, outraged.
"Tosh!" Gwen nudged her and Tosh clamped her mouth shut.
"It looks like Jones was with the Doctor."
"Ah." Stewart gave them a lazy smile that made Gwen want to vomit. "Interesting turn of events."
Stewart nodded curtly to the UNIT personnel standing behind them as she pulled off her expensive looking sunglasses. Her eyes looked cool as she considered the three before her.
"Well then, it'll just be three. Mr. Saxon would like to see you now, Torchwood."
Bugger.
Act IV
Additional Notes: Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.