Fic: The Oncoming Storm (Slash, AU, Janto 36/40 Act 6/10)
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, angsty, disturbing imagery (a matter of reader's interpretation, though)
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to DW's "Utopia" and briefly mentions things from DW's "Army of Darkness" 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, Ch 36 Act 3/10, Ch 36 Act 4/10, Ch 36 Act 5/10 1/2, Ch 36 Act 5/10 2/2
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 36 "Utopia 2.0"
Act VI
Ministry of Defense
Whitehall St., London
Present day…
Considering all the shit they were in, this really wasn't such a bad place.
Owen studied the office where they were uncuffed and made to wait with the same practiced eye he used to buy his own loft. He bought the biggest, perched on the highest floor available at the time; just to show good ole Mrs. Harper just how not useless her son was.
The office, like his loft, was on the top floor to take advantage of the skylight and high ceilings. It boasted tinted windows from floor to ceiling and all of London lay beyond the generous view. Everything was in tones of black or gray and reminded Owen of a barrister's office. The room didn't invite people to relax and Owen suspected it was deliberate.
Owen's lips curled. He could imagine this Whitehall high and mighty bloke, whoever he was, standing in front of the window, hands clasped behind him, watching London like it was his own private play. He glanced over to Gwen and Tosh. He paused at Tosh's little frown. That can't be good. It usually meant something was going to blow up very spectacularly. And soon.
"What is it?" Owen cautiously leaned over to her. Their escorts for the past hour stood bored, looking trancelike and stupid by the doors. So long as the three of them stayed seated in the cube leather chairs, the UNIT personnel barely reacted to them. Their guns, on the other hand, warned them against testing the UNIT troops.
Tosh nodded carefully towards the four monitors stacked two by two behind the half oval mahogany desk.
"Those are satellite surveillances of the Plass." Tosh squinted. "There's one of the sculpture, even one of the Tourist office." Her eyebrow twitched. "They've been watching us."
"What?" Gwen hissed, listening in. She looked over to the monitors. She screwed up her face and tried to catch a better glimpse of the blue tinted screens. "For how long?"
"For a very long time," a too smooth voice floated into the room.
Owen stiffened. He could hear the tap-tap approach of well-heeled, very expensive shoes.
Gwen frowned to herself. She twisted around to see who had entered.
Owen and Tosh faced forward. Tosh's expression was unreadable but her fingers when Owen reached over to give them a squeeze were cold.
"Well, well, our infamous Torchwood."
Owen tracked a man dressed in the same somber outfit as the others and about his height, strolling, as if he had all the time in the world, around them until he stood behind his expansive desk. Light, short hair, and a smirk that was a little too smug, a little too knowing for Owen's liking, he stood there with his fingertips balanced lightly on his desk, his cool eyes studying them critically.
"Hm," the newcomer just said. He drummed his fingers on the table.
"Still not very impressive, I must say. But you were far more trouble than I had originally thought back then." The man folded his arms in front of him and considered them with a pout. "And I had underestimated Jones. Both of them. But not this time."
Owen shared a befuddled look with Tosh.
Gwen, who had her mouth slightly open the whole time, jerked.
"You're Harold Saxon!" she burst out.
The responding smile was pure oil.
Owen darted Gwen a look. She nearly stood up, her body vibrating even from where he sat.
"What have you done with Jack?" Gwen demanded.
Owen stiffened. "Oi, what are you talking about?"
"That voice…" Tosh suddenly breathed next to him. Her eyes grew wide. "But it can't be…"
"What? What the hell are you talking about?" Owen was getting dizzy swiveling his head back and forward between the two girls.
"We heard him when we tried to call Jack. His mobile?" Gwen seethed. "He's the Master."
"Harold Saxon's the Master," Tosh gasped.
"But you can call me Minister Saxon," Saxon said. He nearly purred. Saxon gave them a mocking little bow. "Or in a few days, Prime Minister. Can I count on your vote, Torchwood?"
Something hot exploded in Owen's chest. "Piss off!"
Saxon tsked. "My Captain didn't teach you any manners, Torchwood?"
"Where is he?" Gwen raged. She jumped to her feet, which galvanized the UNIT guards to come up from behind. Gwen grunted when one pushed her back down on the chair with a rough shove on her shoulders.
"Don't touch her!" Tosh snapped. She yipped when one slapped the back of her head.
"Fucking wanker! That didn't mean you could touch her either!" Owen snarled. He hissed as the butt of one of their rifles glanced off his shoulder.
Tosh's small fist shot out and hit the UNIT trooper who Owen struck square in the groin. The man folded over like paper. Gwen rocked her head back and hit the other in his belly.
Owen didn't have time to be impressed as he vaulted over the desk, grabbed the miserable pisser by his lapels, ready to give him a good thrashing when Saxon just smiled up at him.
"I wouldn't," Saxon hissed. His smile was feral, unwavering despite the fact he dangled off Owen's fists. His eyes, dark as coals, darted to his left. Owen's jaw twitched but he glanced over nevertheless.
Six rifles' muzzles were pressed up again Gwen’s and Tosh's heads, so hard that they tipped the girls' heads forward. They stood there, wearing twin stoic faces, their hands up. They both looked ready to murder.
Owen glowered at Saxon. The piece of shit simply shrugged.
"Oh, I know they're not Diane, but surely you must feel something for them," Saxon sneered.
His body froze and gone numb. Owen growled low in his breath but let Saxon go.
Saxon stepped back. He tugged down his suit, fixed his tie as UNIT men strode over and dragged Owen back to the others. They were all made to sit down again.
"Sorry, Mr. Saxon," one apologized breathlessly. He was still doubled over a little.
Saxon waved at them dismissively. "Better they try and fail now than later."
Owen arched an eyebrow at Tosh, who shrugged, looking bored.
"Obviously my Captain has been a poor influence on you," Saxon commented as he tightened the knot of his tie.
"What's this 'my Captain' shit?" Owen bit out.
Saxon gave them a feral smirk that made Owen's blood heat up under his skin.
The minister sat down on his plush chair, swiveling it a little until he faced them again. He hummed as he reached for the stack of files they saw Stewart holding before. "Let's see, shall we?" Saxon licked the tip of his finger and sorted through the sheets within.
"Toshiko Sato." Saxon muttered to himself as he read her basics. Owen could see her mouth pressed thin out of the corner of his eye. Saxon shook his head and wagged his finger at her.
"One year in UNIT detention, for shame!" Saxon scanned further. "I see Alex Hopkins was able to negotiate your release; your freedom in five years." He smiled darkly.
"You must have been very grateful."
Tosh surprised them all by spitting out a word worthy of Owen.
Saxon just chuckled. "I see a year in absolute solitude did nothing to silence your spirit." He studied Owen now. His fingers tapped the stack of files.
"Dr. Owen Harper recruited at the same time as Ms. Sato in order to find a cure for his dear, comatose fiancée Kate after a failed attempt to remove a brain tumor." Saxon shook his head sadly, but he smiled darkly. "Brain tumor? Was that what they're calling it in this century? What a pity. Oh, the Rift can be so cold sometimes."
Owen clenched his teeth. He could feel Gwen's startled gaze upon him. He ignored it as Saxon went on about Gwen.
Tosh was staring hard at Saxon, but the fingers on her knee had twitched when Saxon went through Owen's record.
"Now, Torchwood," Saxon thumped his hands on the stack of files. "To business."
"I thought you just invited us here to hear you prattle on," Owen drawled. "Seeing the special elections were coming and all."
Saxon smirked. "I'm not too concerned about your vote." He drummed his fingers on the files. "I am, however, very concerned about the safety of this world under Torchwood's watch."
"Oi, you're a right saint," Owen shot back.
Saxon had the balls to wink at him. "I at least didn't open the Rift to get back a lover who wouldn't even stay in the first place."
Everything bled to red. Owen felt a fury he hadn't felt in a long time forcing its way up his throat.
"How do you know all this?" Gwen had moved her knee to touch Owen's. Tosh did the same on her side.
"Your Captain."
"Bull," Owen burst out.
Saxon stood up and leaned forward on his desk. "And why not?" Saxon's smile became thin, a slit that went from ear to ear.
"You broke his heart." Saxon cocked his head. "Did you still expect his loyalty to you? After what you did?" The minister-Owen refused to call him the Master like that kooky Doctor did-stroked the phone by him.
"Why did you think he came the moment I called?" Saxon narrowed his eyes at them. He sneered at them.
"I really have Torchwood to thank for returning him to me."
Owen could feel Gwen and Tosh fidget. Owen bristled at the minister behind the desk.
"To you? He only went because he thought you were the Doctor," Owen scoffed.
Unexpectedly, Saxon's eyes flared and shit, Owen could have sworn his eyes lit up like flames.
"I am his Doctor!" Saxon snarled.
Christ, another nutter. Owen forced himself not to look away.
"No, you're not." Owen bared his teeth. "We met the real one." He grinned manically and saw Saxon purpling. He hoped it gave the so-called Master a stroke. "You're not it, mate."
Gwen picked up on his cue. "You're bogus."
"A facsimile," Tosh agreed.
To Owen's amusement and unease, Saxon grew redder and redder. Shit, this bloke wasn't fucking serious, was he?
"I came back for him! I took him in despite his miserable existence! I'm the one he returned to! He's my Captain and I'm his Doctor!"
"Jesus," Gwen muttered under her breath. Owen silently agreed. The man was completely mental. Just their luck.
Like a switch, Saxon's tirade stopped, abruptly, a smile pasted back on his pale face that looked patronizing. Owen eyed him suspiciously.
"Well, real or not, I am still your minister and I do have a duty to this nation." Saxon held up a hand and he tsked dramatically. "I do have to make sure this nation is safe from Torchwood."
"What about safe from you?" Owen shouted but Saxon ignored him.
"Your charges," Saxon announced and he hefted a thick sheath of papers as thick as Owen's arm out from behind him onto the desk. It landed with a thud.
"Endangering our Empire by opening the Rift and causing all-"
"We opened the Rift to save lives!" Gwen shouted.
Owen's stomach did a little flip at the 'We'.
"Letting Cybermen into our world-"
"That wasn't us!" Tosh burst out. "That was Torchwood London! We weren't even there!"
Saxon paused. He smiled darkly at them. "Oh, but you were." The minister lifted up one sheet and considered it with a squint. Abruptly, he tossed it over his shoulder. "We have witnesses."
"Witnesses?" Owen exclaimed. "Who?"
Saxon stared hard at Owen. His eyes glittered as he narrowed them.
"Me," Saxon hissed.
"You…" Tosh breathed.
"Oh sorry," Saxon said brightly. He waved a form at them. "It says here from UNIT that the Doctor reported seeing you all there."
"Meaning you," Owen snarled.
Saxon merely flashed him a grin.
Tosh stared at him. "You were there…you saw what happened at Canary Wharf?"
Owen glared at Saxon. "I bet he wasn't just there, Tosh." Owen clenched his jaw.
"He caused it," Owen bit out.
Owen could feel the girls drop into a stunned silence.
Saxon lifted up his hands.
And clapped.
"Not just a bitter little lost boy, Dr. Harper." Saxon stopped his applause and set his arms down on the desk. "Alex Hopkins chose you well. You were meant for Torchwood no matter what timeline."
Owen shot Tosh a baffled look. What was Saxon harping about?
"Ianto," Tosh breathed. "He was there. Lisa…" She swallowed.
Owen felt a cold lump in his gut. "He saw your face. He knows you're not the Doctor."
"Along with hundreds of other Torchwood employees," Saxon reminded him. Saxon sighed and shook his head. "Pity, they all perished when Canary Wharf fell. All those great and inquisitive minds. Such a great loss for the science communities."
"Why?" Gwen, of course, always needed to know more. She leaned forward in her seat. "My God, all those people…Why did you do this?"
Saxon shot her an annoyed look. "Do you expect me to go off into a monologue about all the horrible, misguided things I have done?" He shook his head. "They would have opened that breach anyway." Saxon bared his teeth. "I simply added some…" He opened both his hands, his fingers splayed out towards them, "…oompf."
"Oompf?" Owen repeated.
"A little power burst." Saxon shrugged. "I needed a push to where I was going."
Saxon grunted and he scanned another sheet on his stack before that flitted over his shoulder as well.
"Yes, Mr. Jones." Saxon acted annoyed as if he'd encountered morning traffic. "He should have been among the dead. Well, he will be soon though." He smirked and made a show of looking at his wristwatch. "I believe they'll be serving dinner right about now."
"What are you talking about?" Gwen demanded. "Where is he?"
"Where did you send them off to?" Owen shouted.
The thin smile spread from ear to ear. "To when it all began: the end."
Owen glowered. He was getting sick of all the riddles.
Saxon cleared his throat. "Yes, now where were we? Ah! Risking our shores with exposing us with the Rift. Releasing the son of the great Beast Abbadon…"
Saxon muttered to himself as he flipped paper after paper over his shoulder. Owen darted a look to Gwen, then to Tosh.
"Ah!" Saxon exasperated. He tossed the whole lot behind him and they fluttered behind him like giant snowflakes. "Let's condense this, shall we? Nobody likes long speeches. Always in a hurry to do something else." Saxon coughed into his fist before he pulled out a card from his pockets.
"By order of the Ministry of Defense in cooperation with UNIT," Saxon saluted mockingly at the guards by his door, "in answer to the charges hereby stated-"
"You must be fucking joking," Owen heckled.
Saxon shot Owen a look. He put a finger over his lips and shushed Owen.
"We hereby in the Ministry of Defense find Torchwood guilty of global terrorism by means of the Rift and hereby sentence Torchwood…"
Saxon paused dramatically. He smiled, his eyes slits as he swept his gaze over them.
"…To death." Saxon set his card carefully on the center of the desk.
"Effective immediately."
Owen's mouth went dry.
Well…shit.
…thrum-thrum…tap-tap…tap…tap…
Awareness crept back into the edge of light.
He became conscious of something around his ankles, his wrists. He was also cold.
Someone was talking to him-what, he didn't know-and was pacing, bored. He smelled the stench of unlit tobacco and heard footsteps leaving.
A door creaked. Outside, more footsteps.
"What the fu-Jack! What are you people doing to him?"
"Oh my God! Jack?"
A scuffle. He frowned-or thought he did-when he heard shouting, flesh meeting flesh, then frantic footsteps.
Warm hands on his skin.
"Jack? Jack!"
He felt more hands. The ground was shaking. No, he was shaking.
"Wake up! What did those fuckers do to you?"
"Get them out of there!"
More scuffling. Voices. He…he knew those voices. Once.
Hands on him again, more delicate than the first. A tearful voice.
"Jack, Jack, come on…what's wrong with you?"
Wrongwrongwrong…
"You're not supposed to be here!"
"He's not supposed to be here!"
"What's all this?"
"What are you doing to him?"
"Get Torchwood out of here!"
"Jack! Jack! Wake up!"
"Jack, it's us! You have to wake up! Ianto's in trouble. He needs your help-"
"Shut up!"
"Ianto's with the Doc-"
A punch. Someone groaned. A slap. Someone cried out.
"Keep your hands off me-Jack!"
There were more shouts, more flesh against flesh and a door slammed.
It was quiet again.
The sensations of his body faded a little and the questions he might have asked had eased back. Except there were now words that echoed in his mind, quietly but firmly nudging the thrum-thrum, tap-tap aside.
Ianto needed help.
Jack Harkness' eyes opened.
Act VII
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, angsty, disturbing imagery (a matter of reader's interpretation, though)
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to DW's "Utopia" and briefly mentions things from DW's "Army of Darkness" 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, Ch 36 Act 3/10, Ch 36 Act 4/10, Ch 36 Act 5/10 1/2, Ch 36 Act 5/10 2/2
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 36 "Utopia 2.0"
Act VI
Ministry of Defense
Whitehall St., London
Present day…
Considering all the shit they were in, this really wasn't such a bad place.
Owen studied the office where they were uncuffed and made to wait with the same practiced eye he used to buy his own loft. He bought the biggest, perched on the highest floor available at the time; just to show good ole Mrs. Harper just how not useless her son was.
The office, like his loft, was on the top floor to take advantage of the skylight and high ceilings. It boasted tinted windows from floor to ceiling and all of London lay beyond the generous view. Everything was in tones of black or gray and reminded Owen of a barrister's office. The room didn't invite people to relax and Owen suspected it was deliberate.
Owen's lips curled. He could imagine this Whitehall high and mighty bloke, whoever he was, standing in front of the window, hands clasped behind him, watching London like it was his own private play. He glanced over to Gwen and Tosh. He paused at Tosh's little frown. That can't be good. It usually meant something was going to blow up very spectacularly. And soon.
"What is it?" Owen cautiously leaned over to her. Their escorts for the past hour stood bored, looking trancelike and stupid by the doors. So long as the three of them stayed seated in the cube leather chairs, the UNIT personnel barely reacted to them. Their guns, on the other hand, warned them against testing the UNIT troops.
Tosh nodded carefully towards the four monitors stacked two by two behind the half oval mahogany desk.
"Those are satellite surveillances of the Plass." Tosh squinted. "There's one of the sculpture, even one of the Tourist office." Her eyebrow twitched. "They've been watching us."
"What?" Gwen hissed, listening in. She looked over to the monitors. She screwed up her face and tried to catch a better glimpse of the blue tinted screens. "For how long?"
"For a very long time," a too smooth voice floated into the room.
Owen stiffened. He could hear the tap-tap approach of well-heeled, very expensive shoes.
Gwen frowned to herself. She twisted around to see who had entered.
Owen and Tosh faced forward. Tosh's expression was unreadable but her fingers when Owen reached over to give them a squeeze were cold.
"Well, well, our infamous Torchwood."
Owen tracked a man dressed in the same somber outfit as the others and about his height, strolling, as if he had all the time in the world, around them until he stood behind his expansive desk. Light, short hair, and a smirk that was a little too smug, a little too knowing for Owen's liking, he stood there with his fingertips balanced lightly on his desk, his cool eyes studying them critically.
"Hm," the newcomer just said. He drummed his fingers on the table.
"Still not very impressive, I must say. But you were far more trouble than I had originally thought back then." The man folded his arms in front of him and considered them with a pout. "And I had underestimated Jones. Both of them. But not this time."
Owen shared a befuddled look with Tosh.
Gwen, who had her mouth slightly open the whole time, jerked.
"You're Harold Saxon!" she burst out.
The responding smile was pure oil.
Owen darted Gwen a look. She nearly stood up, her body vibrating even from where he sat.
"What have you done with Jack?" Gwen demanded.
Owen stiffened. "Oi, what are you talking about?"
"That voice…" Tosh suddenly breathed next to him. Her eyes grew wide. "But it can't be…"
"What? What the hell are you talking about?" Owen was getting dizzy swiveling his head back and forward between the two girls.
"We heard him when we tried to call Jack. His mobile?" Gwen seethed. "He's the Master."
"Harold Saxon's the Master," Tosh gasped.
"But you can call me Minister Saxon," Saxon said. He nearly purred. Saxon gave them a mocking little bow. "Or in a few days, Prime Minister. Can I count on your vote, Torchwood?"
Something hot exploded in Owen's chest. "Piss off!"
Saxon tsked. "My Captain didn't teach you any manners, Torchwood?"
"Where is he?" Gwen raged. She jumped to her feet, which galvanized the UNIT guards to come up from behind. Gwen grunted when one pushed her back down on the chair with a rough shove on her shoulders.
"Don't touch her!" Tosh snapped. She yipped when one slapped the back of her head.
"Fucking wanker! That didn't mean you could touch her either!" Owen snarled. He hissed as the butt of one of their rifles glanced off his shoulder.
Tosh's small fist shot out and hit the UNIT trooper who Owen struck square in the groin. The man folded over like paper. Gwen rocked her head back and hit the other in his belly.
Owen didn't have time to be impressed as he vaulted over the desk, grabbed the miserable pisser by his lapels, ready to give him a good thrashing when Saxon just smiled up at him.
"I wouldn't," Saxon hissed. His smile was feral, unwavering despite the fact he dangled off Owen's fists. His eyes, dark as coals, darted to his left. Owen's jaw twitched but he glanced over nevertheless.
Six rifles' muzzles were pressed up again Gwen’s and Tosh's heads, so hard that they tipped the girls' heads forward. They stood there, wearing twin stoic faces, their hands up. They both looked ready to murder.
Owen glowered at Saxon. The piece of shit simply shrugged.
"Oh, I know they're not Diane, but surely you must feel something for them," Saxon sneered.
His body froze and gone numb. Owen growled low in his breath but let Saxon go.
Saxon stepped back. He tugged down his suit, fixed his tie as UNIT men strode over and dragged Owen back to the others. They were all made to sit down again.
"Sorry, Mr. Saxon," one apologized breathlessly. He was still doubled over a little.
Saxon waved at them dismissively. "Better they try and fail now than later."
Owen arched an eyebrow at Tosh, who shrugged, looking bored.
"Obviously my Captain has been a poor influence on you," Saxon commented as he tightened the knot of his tie.
"What's this 'my Captain' shit?" Owen bit out.
Saxon gave them a feral smirk that made Owen's blood heat up under his skin.
The minister sat down on his plush chair, swiveling it a little until he faced them again. He hummed as he reached for the stack of files they saw Stewart holding before. "Let's see, shall we?" Saxon licked the tip of his finger and sorted through the sheets within.
"Toshiko Sato." Saxon muttered to himself as he read her basics. Owen could see her mouth pressed thin out of the corner of his eye. Saxon shook his head and wagged his finger at her.
"One year in UNIT detention, for shame!" Saxon scanned further. "I see Alex Hopkins was able to negotiate your release; your freedom in five years." He smiled darkly.
"You must have been very grateful."
Tosh surprised them all by spitting out a word worthy of Owen.
Saxon just chuckled. "I see a year in absolute solitude did nothing to silence your spirit." He studied Owen now. His fingers tapped the stack of files.
"Dr. Owen Harper recruited at the same time as Ms. Sato in order to find a cure for his dear, comatose fiancée Kate after a failed attempt to remove a brain tumor." Saxon shook his head sadly, but he smiled darkly. "Brain tumor? Was that what they're calling it in this century? What a pity. Oh, the Rift can be so cold sometimes."
Owen clenched his teeth. He could feel Gwen's startled gaze upon him. He ignored it as Saxon went on about Gwen.
Tosh was staring hard at Saxon, but the fingers on her knee had twitched when Saxon went through Owen's record.
"Now, Torchwood," Saxon thumped his hands on the stack of files. "To business."
"I thought you just invited us here to hear you prattle on," Owen drawled. "Seeing the special elections were coming and all."
Saxon smirked. "I'm not too concerned about your vote." He drummed his fingers on the files. "I am, however, very concerned about the safety of this world under Torchwood's watch."
"Oi, you're a right saint," Owen shot back.
Saxon had the balls to wink at him. "I at least didn't open the Rift to get back a lover who wouldn't even stay in the first place."
Everything bled to red. Owen felt a fury he hadn't felt in a long time forcing its way up his throat.
"How do you know all this?" Gwen had moved her knee to touch Owen's. Tosh did the same on her side.
"Your Captain."
"Bull," Owen burst out.
Saxon stood up and leaned forward on his desk. "And why not?" Saxon's smile became thin, a slit that went from ear to ear.
"You broke his heart." Saxon cocked his head. "Did you still expect his loyalty to you? After what you did?" The minister-Owen refused to call him the Master like that kooky Doctor did-stroked the phone by him.
"Why did you think he came the moment I called?" Saxon narrowed his eyes at them. He sneered at them.
"I really have Torchwood to thank for returning him to me."
Owen could feel Gwen and Tosh fidget. Owen bristled at the minister behind the desk.
"To you? He only went because he thought you were the Doctor," Owen scoffed.
Unexpectedly, Saxon's eyes flared and shit, Owen could have sworn his eyes lit up like flames.
"I am his Doctor!" Saxon snarled.
Christ, another nutter. Owen forced himself not to look away.
"No, you're not." Owen bared his teeth. "We met the real one." He grinned manically and saw Saxon purpling. He hoped it gave the so-called Master a stroke. "You're not it, mate."
Gwen picked up on his cue. "You're bogus."
"A facsimile," Tosh agreed.
To Owen's amusement and unease, Saxon grew redder and redder. Shit, this bloke wasn't fucking serious, was he?
"I came back for him! I took him in despite his miserable existence! I'm the one he returned to! He's my Captain and I'm his Doctor!"
"Jesus," Gwen muttered under her breath. Owen silently agreed. The man was completely mental. Just their luck.
Like a switch, Saxon's tirade stopped, abruptly, a smile pasted back on his pale face that looked patronizing. Owen eyed him suspiciously.
"Well, real or not, I am still your minister and I do have a duty to this nation." Saxon held up a hand and he tsked dramatically. "I do have to make sure this nation is safe from Torchwood."
"What about safe from you?" Owen shouted but Saxon ignored him.
"Your charges," Saxon announced and he hefted a thick sheath of papers as thick as Owen's arm out from behind him onto the desk. It landed with a thud.
"Endangering our Empire by opening the Rift and causing all-"
"We opened the Rift to save lives!" Gwen shouted.
Owen's stomach did a little flip at the 'We'.
"Letting Cybermen into our world-"
"That wasn't us!" Tosh burst out. "That was Torchwood London! We weren't even there!"
Saxon paused. He smiled darkly at them. "Oh, but you were." The minister lifted up one sheet and considered it with a squint. Abruptly, he tossed it over his shoulder. "We have witnesses."
"Witnesses?" Owen exclaimed. "Who?"
Saxon stared hard at Owen. His eyes glittered as he narrowed them.
"Me," Saxon hissed.
"You…" Tosh breathed.
"Oh sorry," Saxon said brightly. He waved a form at them. "It says here from UNIT that the Doctor reported seeing you all there."
"Meaning you," Owen snarled.
Saxon merely flashed him a grin.
Tosh stared at him. "You were there…you saw what happened at Canary Wharf?"
Owen glared at Saxon. "I bet he wasn't just there, Tosh." Owen clenched his jaw.
"He caused it," Owen bit out.
Owen could feel the girls drop into a stunned silence.
Saxon lifted up his hands.
And clapped.
"Not just a bitter little lost boy, Dr. Harper." Saxon stopped his applause and set his arms down on the desk. "Alex Hopkins chose you well. You were meant for Torchwood no matter what timeline."
Owen shot Tosh a baffled look. What was Saxon harping about?
"Ianto," Tosh breathed. "He was there. Lisa…" She swallowed.
Owen felt a cold lump in his gut. "He saw your face. He knows you're not the Doctor."
"Along with hundreds of other Torchwood employees," Saxon reminded him. Saxon sighed and shook his head. "Pity, they all perished when Canary Wharf fell. All those great and inquisitive minds. Such a great loss for the science communities."
"Why?" Gwen, of course, always needed to know more. She leaned forward in her seat. "My God, all those people…Why did you do this?"
Saxon shot her an annoyed look. "Do you expect me to go off into a monologue about all the horrible, misguided things I have done?" He shook his head. "They would have opened that breach anyway." Saxon bared his teeth. "I simply added some…" He opened both his hands, his fingers splayed out towards them, "…oompf."
"Oompf?" Owen repeated.
"A little power burst." Saxon shrugged. "I needed a push to where I was going."
Saxon grunted and he scanned another sheet on his stack before that flitted over his shoulder as well.
"Yes, Mr. Jones." Saxon acted annoyed as if he'd encountered morning traffic. "He should have been among the dead. Well, he will be soon though." He smirked and made a show of looking at his wristwatch. "I believe they'll be serving dinner right about now."
"What are you talking about?" Gwen demanded. "Where is he?"
"Where did you send them off to?" Owen shouted.
The thin smile spread from ear to ear. "To when it all began: the end."
Owen glowered. He was getting sick of all the riddles.
Saxon cleared his throat. "Yes, now where were we? Ah! Risking our shores with exposing us with the Rift. Releasing the son of the great Beast Abbadon…"
Saxon muttered to himself as he flipped paper after paper over his shoulder. Owen darted a look to Gwen, then to Tosh.
"Ah!" Saxon exasperated. He tossed the whole lot behind him and they fluttered behind him like giant snowflakes. "Let's condense this, shall we? Nobody likes long speeches. Always in a hurry to do something else." Saxon coughed into his fist before he pulled out a card from his pockets.
"By order of the Ministry of Defense in cooperation with UNIT," Saxon saluted mockingly at the guards by his door, "in answer to the charges hereby stated-"
"You must be fucking joking," Owen heckled.
Saxon shot Owen a look. He put a finger over his lips and shushed Owen.
"We hereby in the Ministry of Defense find Torchwood guilty of global terrorism by means of the Rift and hereby sentence Torchwood…"
Saxon paused dramatically. He smiled, his eyes slits as he swept his gaze over them.
"…To death." Saxon set his card carefully on the center of the desk.
"Effective immediately."
Owen's mouth went dry.
Well…shit.
…thrum-thrum…tap-tap…tap…tap…
Awareness crept back into the edge of light.
He became conscious of something around his ankles, his wrists. He was also cold.
Someone was talking to him-what, he didn't know-and was pacing, bored. He smelled the stench of unlit tobacco and heard footsteps leaving.
A door creaked. Outside, more footsteps.
"What the fu-Jack! What are you people doing to him?"
"Oh my God! Jack?"
A scuffle. He frowned-or thought he did-when he heard shouting, flesh meeting flesh, then frantic footsteps.
Warm hands on his skin.
"Jack? Jack!"
He felt more hands. The ground was shaking. No, he was shaking.
"Wake up! What did those fuckers do to you?"
"Get them out of there!"
More scuffling. Voices. He…he knew those voices. Once.
Hands on him again, more delicate than the first. A tearful voice.
"Jack, Jack, come on…what's wrong with you?"
Wrongwrongwrong…
"You're not supposed to be here!"
"He's not supposed to be here!"
"What's all this?"
"What are you doing to him?"
"Get Torchwood out of here!"
"Jack! Jack! Wake up!"
"Jack, it's us! You have to wake up! Ianto's in trouble. He needs your help-"
"Shut up!"
"Ianto's with the Doc-"
A punch. Someone groaned. A slap. Someone cried out.
"Keep your hands off me-Jack!"
There were more shouts, more flesh against flesh and a door slammed.
It was quiet again.
The sensations of his body faded a little and the questions he might have asked had eased back. Except there were now words that echoed in his mind, quietly but firmly nudging the thrum-thrum, tap-tap aside.
Ianto needed help.
Jack Harkness' eyes opened.
Act VII
Additional Notes: Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.