Fic: The Oncoming Storm (Slash, AU, Janto 40/40 Act 2/11)
Author: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17
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.
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: Note that "the Year That Never Was" was suggested that it wasn't fun. I took it as a challenge to somehow still find a way to instill comfort in it. If it didn't work, I'm sorry. I suck. LOL.
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: strong language, dark, angsty, VIOLENCE, torture (mostly implied, all a matter of reader interpretation), child death, character death (but remember what year we're in…lol)
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are events here that was referenced in DW's "The Sound of Drums", "Utopia", "Parting of Ways", DW Novel "Only Human"
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 Ch 37, Ch 38, Ch 39, Ch 40 1/11
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 40 "The Last of the Time Lords"
Act II
Valiant
Month Twelve, Ver. 1
"Be ready."
Jack groaned when he saw the terrier on the pipes again.
"Seriously?" Jack lifted his chin. It was a good thing he was left alone, Jack told himself as his knees couldn't lock and his stomach churned. Saxon, frustrated, was trying something new.
"Ready for what?" Jack gritted out. "If it's for running, I hate to tell you this, but I'm kind of tied up right now.
"Just be ready," the Doctor insisted. One paw lifted up. "You'll see."
"You know, I'm getting a little annoyed at your Time Lord cryptic crap." Jack blinked. Huh. Guess he now knew why it bugged his team, too. "Be ready for what? I like to be prepared like a Boy Scout."
"You were never a Boy Scout." The terrier frowned at him, its bushy brows furrowed over chocolate eyes.
"No," Jack admitted, "never was. Didn't like the uniforms. I didn't look good in shorts although I did think about a kilt once. Did you know you don't have to wear anything under-"
"Jack." Great, the dog was looking more and more like the Doctor each day. "I really don't want to hear the rest of that."
"You're no fun," Jack complained half-heartedly.
"I'm not here to entertain you."
"Then why are you always here?" That came out sharper than he intended.
The dog blinked. "Because there was a question you didn't ask me."
Jack's gut twisted. "I know all there is to know." It was hard to hide the bitterness in his voice.
"No…I think not."
The chains rattled. "What do you want from me? Damn it, what the hell is it with you Time Lords and needing all this crap from me?" Jack gulped back a raw-feeling sound that wanted to escape.
"It's not what I need. It's what you need."
The laugh hurt like salt ground on a weeping wound. "What I need?" Jack snorted. He jerked at the chains hard, not caring that his arms ached when the links vibrated down his arms.
"What I need is a drink." Jack hesitated. "No, not anymore. What I need is to know what I have to be ready for?"
The terrier nimbly jumped off the pipes and as if walking on its tiptoes, trotted up to Jack. Its ears flopped as large brown eyes tilted up towards him. It stood on its hind legs, its front paws on his thighs.
"I'm getting you out."
Jack stared. "W-what? But what about the plan?"
"I'll figure something out."
Jack shook his head. He would be touched if his insides weren't churning. "You honestly think you can defeat him in your current state. I-"
"It has gone far enough." The terrier's bearded muzzle laid flat on his thigh and damn if Jack couldn't feel the weight of its head against him. The terrier nudged his middle with its nose, stopping when Jack couldn't help but flinch.
"The Master has gone too far." The terrier's whiskers drooped. "He has gone too far. I can't let you stay here, old friend."
"But the plan-"
Tiny incisors gleamed when the dog grinned. "I'm an excellent improviser."
Jack chuckled weakly. "Like Tekka Three?"
"That wasn't my fault! I didn't think the king would want two concubines!"
Jack shook his head. "I think this is a bad idea." He swallowed. "You're not…Ianto…the others…you can't."
"I won't," the Doctor promised. "I won't let Saxon near young Torchwood. You have my word. I have someone else in mind."
"Not Tosh. Not the Jones family," Jack said sharply. "Doctor, you can't-"
"It's neither." The terrier got back down on all fours. "Jack, trust me this one last time, all right?"
Jack stared at the dog and its unusually dark eyes.
"I've always trusted you," Jack whispered. "Even when it wasn't really you, I…"
The terrier nuzzled his ankles.
"Thank you. Just be ready. I believe it will happen soon."
"I still think it's a bad plan."
"So says the man who once dashed naked across a hospital."
"Hey, you said you wanted a distraction!"
Torchwood, Cardiff
Gwen grinned as the last of the tapping died down. She rechecked her decryption, placed the paper close to the lamp and read it again.
"Well?" Ianto huddled over Gwen.
"Makes you wish mobiles still worked, doesn't it?" Andy muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Gwen." Had Ianto been twenty years younger, a meter or more shorter, he would have been tugging at her sleeve for her attention.
"It says…" Gwen paused. She double-checked. "'MJ on boat. Stop. She has disk and last part. Stop. Ten days. Stop. D. Jackson.'"
Ianto dropped to the bed. "She's coming," he said in a dazed voice. "She's nearly here."
Gwen wanted to kiss the paper. "Martha and whatever plans from the Doctor. Christ, how long has it been? Almost a year!"
Ianto laughed shakily. "Owen and I better alert the others. They need to get someone to meet her."
"So…" Andy looked from Gwen to Ianto. "This is a good thing then?"
Gwen wanted to grab Andy into a hug. Or maybe Ianto. She couldn't decide. "Oh yes, a very good thing."
"Why?"
Gwen exchanged a look with Ianto. "Well…uh…we're not really sure actually. But Martha was tasked to do something."
"Which is?" Andy pressed. He paused. "Oh, right. The Doctor." Andy rolled his eyes. "Does he even have a real name?"
Gwen frowned to herself. She could understand her friend's skepticism but she didn't like how it deflated Ianto either.
"Go tell Owen," Gwen instructed.
Andy looked like he was about to argue. But at Gwen's look, his shoulders slumped. Instead, he climbed up the ladder.
Gwen studied Ianto on the bed.
"Sorry," Gwen whispered. "He's not usually so…" She shrugged.
The watery smile Ianto gave her didn't ease the tightness in her throat.
"Who hasn't changed because of all this? I can't imagine what he must have seen."
Gwen stood up and planted a light kiss on his hair. Ianto blinked in surprise.
"Get some sleep, love. You look positively knackered."
Ianto's eyes glimmered. "What's the point? He's not there, Gwen."
Gwen shushed him. "But we need you to be here a hundred percent." She nudged him to lie down. She pulled the afghan he favored over him. "Take your four hours. Owen will get you when it's his turn."
The nod was a sleepy one. Ianto blinked up at her.
"This is a good thing, right?"
Gwen patted his cool hand before tucking it under the blanket.
"You bet it is."
Valiant
A week later…
The doors flew open with such a bang that Jack expected Saxon to breeze through the door. Instead, Lucy Saxon and three guards strode in. The door swung loose and Jack caught a glimpse of the outstretched feet of his guard splayed out in a large puddle of blood.
"You know," Jack remarked as Lucy stood there, staring at him with cold eyes. "If you wanted to have a party, I would have gotten dressed up.” Jack kept his eyes on her.
"I suppose the Doctor must have told you something already," Lucy snarled.
Jack kept the smile on his face. "The good Doctor hasn't visited me in quite-"
"That's not what I meant and you know it, you vile creature."
Jack matched the intensity of her gaze and said nothing. Shit, she sounded like she knew.
Lucy's mouth twisted. "I'm only doing this because I love my husband."
"Oookay. Whatever it is you're planning, don't you think you're better off telling him with some flowers-" Jack arched his back when Lucy rammed a taser over his kidneys. Damn it, that hurt!
"…or a watch?" Jack panted as he fought to stand.
Lucy studied him. "I'm only doing this for my husband," she repeated.
"Doing," Jack hissed, "what?"
Lucy glanced over at her guards hovering by the door.
"Kill him," she ordered as she stepped back. "It will be easier to carry him out that way."
Carry him out?
Jack steeled himself as the three approached. One lifted a gun, his impassive eyes glued to Jack's head.
I guess this is what he meant by getting ready, Jack thought when the muzzle pressed close to his temple.
"I'm only doing this for Harry," Lucy said as she curled her lip in disgust and turned her head.
Jack set his jaw as he felt the hammer cock back.
"A watch would have been better," Jack muttered before there was a loud bang.
He never heard Lucy Saxon's reply.
It was like the ship was holding her breath.
Toshiko held the tea tray close to her chest as she walked past the bridge. The guards stood like unmoving granite, not even smirking as she slipped by with her head down. Everyone passed her like automatons, their heads down, their voices silent.
No messages, no plans etched in dry blood on tarps, nothing.
Time slowed to an intolerable crawl. Toshiko embraced the snatches of moments crouched under the engine room pipes working on the strange device. But between the periods of productivity, Toshiko couldn't help but feel shadows creeping up into her heart and she thought about her little brother and her lost family.
A bit more, Toshiko told herself as she reported for engine duty. Finish the strange device, find a way to reach Torchwood and…Toshiko wasn't sure what the next step was but she was sure she would find out soon enough.
Toshiko took the lift to the lower levels. She paused when the lift door opened. Two turns, three doorways away was Jack, whom she hadn't seen since Owen and the others had snuck on board. Francine hadn't seen Jack in days, robbing Toshiko of the thread-thin reports Francine used to whisper to her at night. Her skin crawled at some of the descriptions but she still wanted to see him.
Ridiculous, Toshiko muttered as she stood at the crossroads. Jack couldn't die. He wasn't dead. He wasn't. She'd see him soon enough.
Nevertheless, Toshiko took a step towards the left. The guards were between shifts. No one would notice for a few minutes.
Beyond the double doors to her right was Clive Jones with the device he retrieved for her from its hiding place. Nearly completed, a talisman for whatever the Doctor's plans were. Even if the plans were changed-she wasn't supposed to pass it to Jack anymore-Toshiko suspected the device would turn the tide.
Toshiko bit her lower lip and steered for the right.
A bit more, Toshiko repeated as she ducked her head to slip in-between the doors. Just a bit more.
As soon as her palms struck the surface of the double doors, the alarms wailed all around her.
Cardiff
It was the lack of sound that frightened him the most rather than the smell of blood surrounding him as thick as smoke, as rancid as rotting flesh. It was dark, but he could feel that the walls pressing against him were solid and immovable. He pounded the walls, but they never caved and his fists made no sound striking the thick barriers. His pleas were also muted here and ignored. All there was around him was the blood and absolute, life draining, silence.
Ianto jerked awake and it took a few deep breaths before the metallic taste went away in his mouth.
"And I thought it was bad enough that you snore."
Ianto glowered at Owen to his right. Owen didn't react, his eyes intent on the road.
Ianto slumped back into the passenger seat of the supply truck. He glared out the windshield, his jaw set. For some reason, the countless crumbling facades that scrolled by only made him want to punch the dashboard. The dark served only to vex him.
"You…you see him?" Owen didn't look over.
His mouth soured, his gut growing cold, Ianto shook his head. He bit his lower lip.
Owen sighed. He rolled back his shoulders and concentrated on driving again. Ianto caught Owen working his jaw out of the corner of his eye.
"Doesn't have to mean anything," Owen muttered.
"I think it means plenty." Ianto rubbed his hand up and down his leg.
"Well, you're an optimistic bloke. Between you and happy Andy, I feel like lying down on the road for you to run over with this truck."
"Jack won't let me see what's going on, see what's happening to him. This is the one time where no news does not necessarily mean it's good news." Ianto slouched in his seat.
"No," Owen grunted. "I suppose it doesn't." Owen's finger went up and down on the steering wheel.
Ianto stared out his window. He couldn't see the moon. The smog from the factories making the rockets clogged the sky with its black, foul tasting curtain of soot. He wrinkled his nose and sneezed before he could stop himself. Ianto sniffed loudly and tugged his jacket tighter around him with a fist. The zipper had long since been worn down to its teeth.
"Christ, don't get me sick, too," Owen griped next to him. He gave Ianto a dirty look. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find antibiotics these days? Roll down a window. Sneeze over there, Jonesy."
"I'm not catching a cold!" Ianto snapped, but damn it, a cough that had been tickling his throat escaped. He muffled it behind a sleeve.
"Right."
"I could be choking on your stench," Ianto pointed out testily as he waved a hand in front of his nose.
"Oi, you don't exactly smell like a rose right now either," Owen returned with a half-hearted growl. "I thought you got the showers working."
"I did," Ianto ground out. "If you visited down there more often to use them, you would notice."
"If the water wasn't pumped in from the bloody frigid Bay, I would!" Owen growled. His shoulders, after a few minutes, dropped. He shook his head. "Anyways, I'm a little sick and tired of cold showers," Owen grumbled, his voice lower.
Ianto started and glanced over. He smirked faintly.
"I'd think you were used to it by now from all your dates." Ianto stared at his clasped hands on his lap. He rotated his thumbs around each other.
"Oi." Owen slapped a hand against his right arm.
Ianto's hands curled then uncurled over his lap.
"I'm sick and tired of protein bars," Ianto offered slowly. "I can't even begin to describe how horrified I am to find myself craving roast pork chow mein right now."
Owen snickered. He squinted at the windshield.
"Hob nobs," Owen said suddenly. "I would trade the whole lot of you for a package of Hob nobs."
A chuckle choked Ianto. "You're joking."
"Nope. Nice packet and I’d handcuff your sniffling, cold-infested ass myself."
Ianto snorted. "Now I know why we always ran out."
Owen bared his teeth at Ianto and waggled his eyebrows up and down. He turned back towards front. He suddenly tensed.
"Shit. Company," Owen said without moving his mouth. His hands tighten on the steering wheel.
Ianto turned back forward and swallowed when he saw a Toclafane bobbing up and down in front of the truck a few meters away. Ianto felt for the key cool and flat under his shirt, against his throat. It didn't comfort him when three more floated down into view. In fact, it suddenly felt woefully small against his skin.
The gun Owen had on his lap the whole time quietly moved to Ianto's. Ianto curled his fingers loosely around it and then sank carefully into the seat well by Owen's feet. He curled in, his chin smashed up against his knees, his feet awkwardly folded under him. He nearly shouted when a Toclafane bobbed in to his left side window. Ianto fought back a flinch when spikes sprang out with a metallic hiss. Another appeared by Owen's window.
"You are past curfew, little man."
"Supplies for the slave quarters." Owen pretended to fumble for his identification card hanging on his neck. He flashed his card to both windows and the quaver Owen made was very convincing. "I'm a doctor."
The globes hung in mid-air by the windows.
Ianto took a deep breath but didn't release it. His legs ached bent too long huddled under the dash. He'd never been this close to those blasted things before. He didn't know how the key would work at such range.
The Toclafane next to Owen wobbled as it studied the identification card. Then it stilled and hung frozen in mid-air.
Ianto felt Owen's calf twitch close to his face. It felt like Ianto's chest would burst. He didn't dare exhale yet.
The orb by his window retracted its spikes.
"Supplies are good," the wretched globe next to Owen cooed. "Makes slaves feel better, makes slaves work more. You may continue, little man." With a giggle that rose the hair on back of Ianto's neck, it flew away, the others following like a flock of geese.
After a second, Ianto released the breath he was holding.
Ianto grimaced as he wiggled back up to his seat. He dropped his head back to the top of his seat. He settled a hand over his chest. He could feel his heart still thumping hard against his palm. How did those things not hear that?
"These aren't the droids you are looking for," Ianto muttered.
Owen shot him a look before he turned the ignition. It took several tries. His fingers kept missing the key. The engine rolled into a shudder when the key was finally turned. Ianto exchanged a look with Owen. He wondered if he was as white as Owen. It felt like he was.
The truck jumped as its tires rolled over rubble. Too old, barely functioning, and containing only enough petrol to survive getting there and halfway back, the truck's progress was slow and arduous. Ianto stopped himself many times from urging Owen to drive faster.
"They're usually not out this late," Ianto whispered. His heart was still hammering too hard against his ribs to draw enough air to speak. "The temperatures-"
"I know," Owen bit out.
"They've been staying out later and later-"
"I know, Ianto." Owen's left hand curled tight around the steering wheel like he was going to tear it out. "Just keep your hands in your pockets, stop coughing and shut up, okay?"
Ianto shut up. He didn't put his hands in his pockets, though. It would mean letting go of the gun in his lap. Ianto sat there, stroking the gun like a pup, his head turned towards his window because he kept hearing the whir of Toclafane behind him.
The sight of the streets empty of buildings that once represented the financial district made his chest ache. They drove past a battered sign propped up by a pile of rubber. It was his bank. He used to make deposits there every third Sunday because they were opened seven days of the week. He used to watch the bankers slip bright red and yellow lollipops with the bank's logos to the children when their parents weren't looking. He'd liked that they spoke Welsh. Now it was a just a faded and dented logo that shrank in his cracked side mirror as the truck drove away. Ianto wondered if he dug around the rubble, would he find broken bits of sweet red and yellow shards.
Ianto glanced down into his lap at his weapon. It was less painful than staring out at his side mirror.
"They're looking for something," Owen muttered out of the blue.
Ianto frowned to Owen. "Looking for what?"
"Most likely looking for whom."
"Martha?"
"Could be. Her last message did say she had a few close calls. That Smith lady told me last time, they’ve been mostly searching the shores."
"The shores?" Ianto stared out of the windshield. "Owen-"
"I know." Owen gnashed his teeth. "Stop telling me things I already fucking know, Jonesy."
Ianto bit his lower lip and stared out his window again as the shattered landscape rolled by.
The sigh next to him surprised him. Ianto smiled tightly as he felt Owen slap his right arm in apology. There was no reason to say anything else.
Ianto wasn't sure how Owen knew where they were, but the truck slowed to a halt, signaling that they'd arrived at their destination. Without talking, they both climbed out of the cab on either side to sit on the front bumper to wait.
In the dark, with no light and so cold, Ianto raised his eyes to the sky out of habit and was startled to find a new star.
"Owen." Ianto prodded him with an elbow and pointed towards the series of blue luminescence lights.
"What the hell?" Owen squinted at the sky. "Is that-"
"The Valiant."
The new voice was unexpected and Ianto barely stifled a yelp as he slide off the front bumper and hit the ground in an ungraceful heap.
"Smooth, Jonesy," Owen groaned as he straightened up. "Smith."
"Gorman." Brown eyes cast his way. Hidden behind scarves and hoods, it was still clear it was a woman. She didn't offer him a hand as Ianto struggled to stand. She tracked him as he rose to his feet. "Jones, I presume. Any relation to Martha Jones?"
"No." It took a grip to his right hand before he was set back into a more dignified upright stance. "No relation. Common name."
"Like Smith," Owen drawled as he slapped the dust off Ianto's back.
Smith rolled her eyes. "You're late."
"Traffic," Owen quipped.
The news made her eyes narrow. "I see." She glanced around warily. Even with the lower half of her face concealed, Ianto could tell she was frowning.
"They've been out here later and later."
Owen shrugged. "So we'll be more careful." He nodded towards the back. "The usual and a bit of extra."
Smith beckoned a couple of men who were peering over piles of debris to come forward. "Extra?"
"Fireworks," Owen said then added when Smith tensed, "just in case."
"It would really help," Ianto spoke up. He stared squarely at Smith. Her eyes reminded him of the Time Lord; a witness to more than what was in front of her. "Anything would help."
Smith sighed as if this was a conversation she had far too many times. "Look-"
"Our friends are up there." Ianto pointed to the sky. "They're doing everything they can to help the Doctor. We need to do the same down here or there's no hope."
A coolness Ianto hadn't realized was there warmed a fraction in Smith's eyes.
"I've learned long ago that no matter how dire the circumstances, there is always hope." Smith reached over and grasped Ianto's hands. Her hands were delicate looking but the skin rough with months of toil.
"You have someone special up there," Smith guessed.
"We all have someone up there." Ianto glanced over to Owen, but he was talking to a small scruffy child, tipping the boy's chin back to study his teeth.
"Yes," Smith agreed, "we all do." She squeezed his hands. "And we'll get them all out."
Ianto started and stared at her, hope flaring in his chest. "Then you'll help?"
"I can only promise we'll try. The people-"
"They're scared." Ianto lowered his eyes. "I know. The satellites-"
"That's only part of it." Smith released his hands and folded her arms in front of her but it looked like it was more because she was cold.
"The Archangel network may be telling the people of this planet not to go against Saxon, but it's just a minute influence. Fear multiplied by the many is what we're fighting against."
"They're all afraid to be the first one to do something," Ianto murmured, "because they might be fighting alone."
Approval shone in Smith's eyes. "Yes. I'd been trying to explain that to Dr. Gorman here for a very long time."
"Well," Ianto joked weakly, "he only plays a doctor on the telly."
"Oi," Owen growled low as he rejoined them, "I heard that."
"Congratulations," Ianto shot back "I was worried about your auditory facilities."
Owen waved a dismissive hand towards him before he faced Smith.
"Widget's been telling me about the Valiant?"
Ianto shot him an alarmed look as Smith nodded.
"Ship arrived over Cardiff two days ago. No announcements. Nothing. But…"
"But?" Owen glanced up at the sky. The cluster of soft blue lights was the brightest thing up there.
"Some sort of alarm must have been rung out up there an hour ago. All communications and flights were closed, immediate lockdown." Smith studied them. "We've intercepted nothing from the Valiant for the past forty minutes."
"Your team seemed to always have very plausible information about the ship. Have you heard anything?"
Ianto bit his lower lip. He shook his head.
"I was cut off," Ianto whispered. He stared hard at the ground, at the feet all clustered around him. They blurred.
"We lost communication," Owen explained in a clipped tone. "We know even less than you."
"Ah." Smith sounded far too sympathetic. She stepped aside with Owen, their voices dropping even lower. Ianto could feel their eyes on him though. He wanted to climb back into the cab when a boy with tousled blond hair over his eyes peered up at him.
"Would you like me to check your heart?"
Ianto sniffed. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. What?"
The boy held up a dented, discolored stethoscope. There were scratches on the chrome from someone scrubbing too hard. The child grinned with a gap in his teeth.
"I can listen to your heart," the boy lisped. "Dr. Fred said it's good to hear what your heart has to say to you."
"Dr. Fred said that, did he?" Ianto smirked wanly. He sniffed again and stooped down. "Well then…what does it say?"
The stethoscope head was pocked with dents and dull with streaks. The boy placed it under his jaw by mistake, but he frowned in concentration as he listened with his eyes tightly shut.
"It’s sad," the child announced.
Ianto's smile faded. He forced his lips to curve again but it hurt his face. "You're…you're very good with that thing," Ianto rasped.
The boy's lower lip stuck out. "I made you mad."
Ianto shook his head. "No," he assured the child. One of his nephews was this boy's age. "I'm not mad."
"Do you miss your parents, too?"
Ianto sat down on the front bumper. He blinked rapidly so he could see the boy better. "I miss a lot of people. That's why my heart sounds sad."
The boy fiddled with the hearing piece of the stethoscope. "Me, too," he said, in a small voice. The child brightened. "But Dr. Fred said if I hear everyone's hearts and tell them, they would feel better. Do you feel better?"
It was easier to smile at such a hopeful face. "I do," Ianto told him. "Thank you."
The child beamed at him.
"Widget." Smith scolded as she approached. "I said you could come only if you promised not to bother them."
"Oh, he wasn't bothering me," Ianto hastened to say.
"Well, he was bothering me," Owen declared. He swatted at Widget's hair. "Scat, you little brat. It's already late."
Ianto bit back a grin when Widget suddenly hugged Owen's legs. The boy barely reached his hip, his arms couldn't even wrap around Owen properly.
"Thank you for the birthday present, Dr. Fred." Widget, although muffled against Owen's jeans, still sounded happy. It was a sound no one had heard in a very long time so Ianto wasn't surprised when he caught Smith's bright eyes crinkle as if she was smiling.
"Widget," Smith failed to sound stern enough.
"Go," Owen said gruffly. He gave Widget a light shove. "Before you give me your fleas."
"Okay, bye-bye." Widget chased after one of the men carrying the crates to help. The men merely ruffled the boy's hair as he hopped, trying to reach any edge to hold up. Widget was only appeased when one huge man let him carry a sack of potatoes the size of his head.
"I'll get our man out here to see you," Smith told Owen. She excused herself and hurried after Widget who was dropping potatoes like breadcrumbs behind him.
Owen glanced over to Ianto. He bristled at Ianto's smirk.
"Wasn't that yours?" Ianto asked. He swallowed back a snicker when Owen glowered at him.
"I don't need it." Owen flapped a hand at him as if he was shooing a gnat. "You rotten lot are upright and breathing. Don't need no rusty stethoscope to tell me that." Owen harrumphed.
"Stupid thing's all filthy anyway. I'll steal me a better one."
"Whatever you say, Dr. Fred."
"Shut up," Owen muttered. He shoved his hands in his pockets and made a point of staring away. He straightened when Smith returned with a young man Ianto's age.
"Gentlemen, may I give introductions?" Smith had a hand on the small of her friend's back.
"So you'll be escorting our Martha Jones when she arrives?" Owen didn't pull out his hand to offer a handshake. "You poor bastard, how did you end up with the short straw?"
"Owen," Ianto groaned. Antagonizing the only help the resistance had offered in weeks was not a recommended strategy.
Amusement made the man's eyes as dark as the sky above.
"Straw? There was no straw." The man smiled blithely. "I volunteered."
Owen threw Ianto a raised eyebrow. "Okay, volunteer. What's your name?"
"Milligan." The smile broadened to a determined grin. "My name is Tom Milligan."
Act III
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
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.
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: Note that "the Year That Never Was" was suggested that it wasn't fun. I took it as a challenge to somehow still find a way to instill comfort in it. If it didn't work, I'm sorry. I suck. LOL.
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: strong language, dark, angsty, VIOLENCE, torture (mostly implied, all a matter of reader interpretation), child death, character death (but remember what year we're in…lol)
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are events here that was referenced in DW's "The Sound of Drums", "Utopia", "Parting of Ways", DW Novel "Only Human"
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 Ch 37, Ch 38, Ch 39, Ch 40 1/11
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 40 "The Last of the Time Lords"
Act II
Valiant
Month Twelve, Ver. 1
"Be ready."
Jack groaned when he saw the terrier on the pipes again.
"Seriously?" Jack lifted his chin. It was a good thing he was left alone, Jack told himself as his knees couldn't lock and his stomach churned. Saxon, frustrated, was trying something new.
"Ready for what?" Jack gritted out. "If it's for running, I hate to tell you this, but I'm kind of tied up right now.
"Just be ready," the Doctor insisted. One paw lifted up. "You'll see."
"You know, I'm getting a little annoyed at your Time Lord cryptic crap." Jack blinked. Huh. Guess he now knew why it bugged his team, too. "Be ready for what? I like to be prepared like a Boy Scout."
"You were never a Boy Scout." The terrier frowned at him, its bushy brows furrowed over chocolate eyes.
"No," Jack admitted, "never was. Didn't like the uniforms. I didn't look good in shorts although I did think about a kilt once. Did you know you don't have to wear anything under-"
"Jack." Great, the dog was looking more and more like the Doctor each day. "I really don't want to hear the rest of that."
"You're no fun," Jack complained half-heartedly.
"I'm not here to entertain you."
"Then why are you always here?" That came out sharper than he intended.
The dog blinked. "Because there was a question you didn't ask me."
Jack's gut twisted. "I know all there is to know." It was hard to hide the bitterness in his voice.
"No…I think not."
The chains rattled. "What do you want from me? Damn it, what the hell is it with you Time Lords and needing all this crap from me?" Jack gulped back a raw-feeling sound that wanted to escape.
"It's not what I need. It's what you need."
The laugh hurt like salt ground on a weeping wound. "What I need?" Jack snorted. He jerked at the chains hard, not caring that his arms ached when the links vibrated down his arms.
"What I need is a drink." Jack hesitated. "No, not anymore. What I need is to know what I have to be ready for?"
The terrier nimbly jumped off the pipes and as if walking on its tiptoes, trotted up to Jack. Its ears flopped as large brown eyes tilted up towards him. It stood on its hind legs, its front paws on his thighs.
"I'm getting you out."
Jack stared. "W-what? But what about the plan?"
"I'll figure something out."
Jack shook his head. He would be touched if his insides weren't churning. "You honestly think you can defeat him in your current state. I-"
"It has gone far enough." The terrier's bearded muzzle laid flat on his thigh and damn if Jack couldn't feel the weight of its head against him. The terrier nudged his middle with its nose, stopping when Jack couldn't help but flinch.
"The Master has gone too far." The terrier's whiskers drooped. "He has gone too far. I can't let you stay here, old friend."
"But the plan-"
Tiny incisors gleamed when the dog grinned. "I'm an excellent improviser."
Jack chuckled weakly. "Like Tekka Three?"
"That wasn't my fault! I didn't think the king would want two concubines!"
Jack shook his head. "I think this is a bad idea." He swallowed. "You're not…Ianto…the others…you can't."
"I won't," the Doctor promised. "I won't let Saxon near young Torchwood. You have my word. I have someone else in mind."
"Not Tosh. Not the Jones family," Jack said sharply. "Doctor, you can't-"
"It's neither." The terrier got back down on all fours. "Jack, trust me this one last time, all right?"
Jack stared at the dog and its unusually dark eyes.
"I've always trusted you," Jack whispered. "Even when it wasn't really you, I…"
The terrier nuzzled his ankles.
"Thank you. Just be ready. I believe it will happen soon."
"I still think it's a bad plan."
"So says the man who once dashed naked across a hospital."
"Hey, you said you wanted a distraction!"
Torchwood, Cardiff
Gwen grinned as the last of the tapping died down. She rechecked her decryption, placed the paper close to the lamp and read it again.
"Well?" Ianto huddled over Gwen.
"Makes you wish mobiles still worked, doesn't it?" Andy muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Gwen." Had Ianto been twenty years younger, a meter or more shorter, he would have been tugging at her sleeve for her attention.
"It says…" Gwen paused. She double-checked. "'MJ on boat. Stop. She has disk and last part. Stop. Ten days. Stop. D. Jackson.'"
Ianto dropped to the bed. "She's coming," he said in a dazed voice. "She's nearly here."
Gwen wanted to kiss the paper. "Martha and whatever plans from the Doctor. Christ, how long has it been? Almost a year!"
Ianto laughed shakily. "Owen and I better alert the others. They need to get someone to meet her."
"So…" Andy looked from Gwen to Ianto. "This is a good thing then?"
Gwen wanted to grab Andy into a hug. Or maybe Ianto. She couldn't decide. "Oh yes, a very good thing."
"Why?"
Gwen exchanged a look with Ianto. "Well…uh…we're not really sure actually. But Martha was tasked to do something."
"Which is?" Andy pressed. He paused. "Oh, right. The Doctor." Andy rolled his eyes. "Does he even have a real name?"
Gwen frowned to herself. She could understand her friend's skepticism but she didn't like how it deflated Ianto either.
"Go tell Owen," Gwen instructed.
Andy looked like he was about to argue. But at Gwen's look, his shoulders slumped. Instead, he climbed up the ladder.
Gwen studied Ianto on the bed.
"Sorry," Gwen whispered. "He's not usually so…" She shrugged.
The watery smile Ianto gave her didn't ease the tightness in her throat.
"Who hasn't changed because of all this? I can't imagine what he must have seen."
Gwen stood up and planted a light kiss on his hair. Ianto blinked in surprise.
"Get some sleep, love. You look positively knackered."
Ianto's eyes glimmered. "What's the point? He's not there, Gwen."
Gwen shushed him. "But we need you to be here a hundred percent." She nudged him to lie down. She pulled the afghan he favored over him. "Take your four hours. Owen will get you when it's his turn."
The nod was a sleepy one. Ianto blinked up at her.
"This is a good thing, right?"
Gwen patted his cool hand before tucking it under the blanket.
"You bet it is."
Valiant
A week later…
The doors flew open with such a bang that Jack expected Saxon to breeze through the door. Instead, Lucy Saxon and three guards strode in. The door swung loose and Jack caught a glimpse of the outstretched feet of his guard splayed out in a large puddle of blood.
"You know," Jack remarked as Lucy stood there, staring at him with cold eyes. "If you wanted to have a party, I would have gotten dressed up.” Jack kept his eyes on her.
"I suppose the Doctor must have told you something already," Lucy snarled.
Jack kept the smile on his face. "The good Doctor hasn't visited me in quite-"
"That's not what I meant and you know it, you vile creature."
Jack matched the intensity of her gaze and said nothing. Shit, she sounded like she knew.
Lucy's mouth twisted. "I'm only doing this because I love my husband."
"Oookay. Whatever it is you're planning, don't you think you're better off telling him with some flowers-" Jack arched his back when Lucy rammed a taser over his kidneys. Damn it, that hurt!
"…or a watch?" Jack panted as he fought to stand.
Lucy studied him. "I'm only doing this for my husband," she repeated.
"Doing," Jack hissed, "what?"
Lucy glanced over at her guards hovering by the door.
"Kill him," she ordered as she stepped back. "It will be easier to carry him out that way."
Carry him out?
Jack steeled himself as the three approached. One lifted a gun, his impassive eyes glued to Jack's head.
I guess this is what he meant by getting ready, Jack thought when the muzzle pressed close to his temple.
"I'm only doing this for Harry," Lucy said as she curled her lip in disgust and turned her head.
Jack set his jaw as he felt the hammer cock back.
"A watch would have been better," Jack muttered before there was a loud bang.
He never heard Lucy Saxon's reply.
It was like the ship was holding her breath.
Toshiko held the tea tray close to her chest as she walked past the bridge. The guards stood like unmoving granite, not even smirking as she slipped by with her head down. Everyone passed her like automatons, their heads down, their voices silent.
No messages, no plans etched in dry blood on tarps, nothing.
Time slowed to an intolerable crawl. Toshiko embraced the snatches of moments crouched under the engine room pipes working on the strange device. But between the periods of productivity, Toshiko couldn't help but feel shadows creeping up into her heart and she thought about her little brother and her lost family.
A bit more, Toshiko told herself as she reported for engine duty. Finish the strange device, find a way to reach Torchwood and…Toshiko wasn't sure what the next step was but she was sure she would find out soon enough.
Toshiko took the lift to the lower levels. She paused when the lift door opened. Two turns, three doorways away was Jack, whom she hadn't seen since Owen and the others had snuck on board. Francine hadn't seen Jack in days, robbing Toshiko of the thread-thin reports Francine used to whisper to her at night. Her skin crawled at some of the descriptions but she still wanted to see him.
Ridiculous, Toshiko muttered as she stood at the crossroads. Jack couldn't die. He wasn't dead. He wasn't. She'd see him soon enough.
Nevertheless, Toshiko took a step towards the left. The guards were between shifts. No one would notice for a few minutes.
Beyond the double doors to her right was Clive Jones with the device he retrieved for her from its hiding place. Nearly completed, a talisman for whatever the Doctor's plans were. Even if the plans were changed-she wasn't supposed to pass it to Jack anymore-Toshiko suspected the device would turn the tide.
Toshiko bit her lower lip and steered for the right.
A bit more, Toshiko repeated as she ducked her head to slip in-between the doors. Just a bit more.
As soon as her palms struck the surface of the double doors, the alarms wailed all around her.
Cardiff
It was the lack of sound that frightened him the most rather than the smell of blood surrounding him as thick as smoke, as rancid as rotting flesh. It was dark, but he could feel that the walls pressing against him were solid and immovable. He pounded the walls, but they never caved and his fists made no sound striking the thick barriers. His pleas were also muted here and ignored. All there was around him was the blood and absolute, life draining, silence.
Ianto jerked awake and it took a few deep breaths before the metallic taste went away in his mouth.
"And I thought it was bad enough that you snore."
Ianto glowered at Owen to his right. Owen didn't react, his eyes intent on the road.
Ianto slumped back into the passenger seat of the supply truck. He glared out the windshield, his jaw set. For some reason, the countless crumbling facades that scrolled by only made him want to punch the dashboard. The dark served only to vex him.
"You…you see him?" Owen didn't look over.
His mouth soured, his gut growing cold, Ianto shook his head. He bit his lower lip.
Owen sighed. He rolled back his shoulders and concentrated on driving again. Ianto caught Owen working his jaw out of the corner of his eye.
"Doesn't have to mean anything," Owen muttered.
"I think it means plenty." Ianto rubbed his hand up and down his leg.
"Well, you're an optimistic bloke. Between you and happy Andy, I feel like lying down on the road for you to run over with this truck."
"Jack won't let me see what's going on, see what's happening to him. This is the one time where no news does not necessarily mean it's good news." Ianto slouched in his seat.
"No," Owen grunted. "I suppose it doesn't." Owen's finger went up and down on the steering wheel.
Ianto stared out his window. He couldn't see the moon. The smog from the factories making the rockets clogged the sky with its black, foul tasting curtain of soot. He wrinkled his nose and sneezed before he could stop himself. Ianto sniffed loudly and tugged his jacket tighter around him with a fist. The zipper had long since been worn down to its teeth.
"Christ, don't get me sick, too," Owen griped next to him. He gave Ianto a dirty look. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find antibiotics these days? Roll down a window. Sneeze over there, Jonesy."
"I'm not catching a cold!" Ianto snapped, but damn it, a cough that had been tickling his throat escaped. He muffled it behind a sleeve.
"Right."
"I could be choking on your stench," Ianto pointed out testily as he waved a hand in front of his nose.
"Oi, you don't exactly smell like a rose right now either," Owen returned with a half-hearted growl. "I thought you got the showers working."
"I did," Ianto ground out. "If you visited down there more often to use them, you would notice."
"If the water wasn't pumped in from the bloody frigid Bay, I would!" Owen growled. His shoulders, after a few minutes, dropped. He shook his head. "Anyways, I'm a little sick and tired of cold showers," Owen grumbled, his voice lower.
Ianto started and glanced over. He smirked faintly.
"I'd think you were used to it by now from all your dates." Ianto stared at his clasped hands on his lap. He rotated his thumbs around each other.
"Oi." Owen slapped a hand against his right arm.
Ianto's hands curled then uncurled over his lap.
"I'm sick and tired of protein bars," Ianto offered slowly. "I can't even begin to describe how horrified I am to find myself craving roast pork chow mein right now."
Owen snickered. He squinted at the windshield.
"Hob nobs," Owen said suddenly. "I would trade the whole lot of you for a package of Hob nobs."
A chuckle choked Ianto. "You're joking."
"Nope. Nice packet and I’d handcuff your sniffling, cold-infested ass myself."
Ianto snorted. "Now I know why we always ran out."
Owen bared his teeth at Ianto and waggled his eyebrows up and down. He turned back towards front. He suddenly tensed.
"Shit. Company," Owen said without moving his mouth. His hands tighten on the steering wheel.
Ianto turned back forward and swallowed when he saw a Toclafane bobbing up and down in front of the truck a few meters away. Ianto felt for the key cool and flat under his shirt, against his throat. It didn't comfort him when three more floated down into view. In fact, it suddenly felt woefully small against his skin.
The gun Owen had on his lap the whole time quietly moved to Ianto's. Ianto curled his fingers loosely around it and then sank carefully into the seat well by Owen's feet. He curled in, his chin smashed up against his knees, his feet awkwardly folded under him. He nearly shouted when a Toclafane bobbed in to his left side window. Ianto fought back a flinch when spikes sprang out with a metallic hiss. Another appeared by Owen's window.
"You are past curfew, little man."
"Supplies for the slave quarters." Owen pretended to fumble for his identification card hanging on his neck. He flashed his card to both windows and the quaver Owen made was very convincing. "I'm a doctor."
The globes hung in mid-air by the windows.
Ianto took a deep breath but didn't release it. His legs ached bent too long huddled under the dash. He'd never been this close to those blasted things before. He didn't know how the key would work at such range.
The Toclafane next to Owen wobbled as it studied the identification card. Then it stilled and hung frozen in mid-air.
Ianto felt Owen's calf twitch close to his face. It felt like Ianto's chest would burst. He didn't dare exhale yet.
The orb by his window retracted its spikes.
"Supplies are good," the wretched globe next to Owen cooed. "Makes slaves feel better, makes slaves work more. You may continue, little man." With a giggle that rose the hair on back of Ianto's neck, it flew away, the others following like a flock of geese.
After a second, Ianto released the breath he was holding.
Ianto grimaced as he wiggled back up to his seat. He dropped his head back to the top of his seat. He settled a hand over his chest. He could feel his heart still thumping hard against his palm. How did those things not hear that?
"These aren't the droids you are looking for," Ianto muttered.
Owen shot him a look before he turned the ignition. It took several tries. His fingers kept missing the key. The engine rolled into a shudder when the key was finally turned. Ianto exchanged a look with Owen. He wondered if he was as white as Owen. It felt like he was.
The truck jumped as its tires rolled over rubble. Too old, barely functioning, and containing only enough petrol to survive getting there and halfway back, the truck's progress was slow and arduous. Ianto stopped himself many times from urging Owen to drive faster.
"They're usually not out this late," Ianto whispered. His heart was still hammering too hard against his ribs to draw enough air to speak. "The temperatures-"
"I know," Owen bit out.
"They've been staying out later and later-"
"I know, Ianto." Owen's left hand curled tight around the steering wheel like he was going to tear it out. "Just keep your hands in your pockets, stop coughing and shut up, okay?"
Ianto shut up. He didn't put his hands in his pockets, though. It would mean letting go of the gun in his lap. Ianto sat there, stroking the gun like a pup, his head turned towards his window because he kept hearing the whir of Toclafane behind him.
The sight of the streets empty of buildings that once represented the financial district made his chest ache. They drove past a battered sign propped up by a pile of rubber. It was his bank. He used to make deposits there every third Sunday because they were opened seven days of the week. He used to watch the bankers slip bright red and yellow lollipops with the bank's logos to the children when their parents weren't looking. He'd liked that they spoke Welsh. Now it was a just a faded and dented logo that shrank in his cracked side mirror as the truck drove away. Ianto wondered if he dug around the rubble, would he find broken bits of sweet red and yellow shards.
Ianto glanced down into his lap at his weapon. It was less painful than staring out at his side mirror.
"They're looking for something," Owen muttered out of the blue.
Ianto frowned to Owen. "Looking for what?"
"Most likely looking for whom."
"Martha?"
"Could be. Her last message did say she had a few close calls. That Smith lady told me last time, they’ve been mostly searching the shores."
"The shores?" Ianto stared out of the windshield. "Owen-"
"I know." Owen gnashed his teeth. "Stop telling me things I already fucking know, Jonesy."
Ianto bit his lower lip and stared out his window again as the shattered landscape rolled by.
The sigh next to him surprised him. Ianto smiled tightly as he felt Owen slap his right arm in apology. There was no reason to say anything else.
Ianto wasn't sure how Owen knew where they were, but the truck slowed to a halt, signaling that they'd arrived at their destination. Without talking, they both climbed out of the cab on either side to sit on the front bumper to wait.
In the dark, with no light and so cold, Ianto raised his eyes to the sky out of habit and was startled to find a new star.
"Owen." Ianto prodded him with an elbow and pointed towards the series of blue luminescence lights.
"What the hell?" Owen squinted at the sky. "Is that-"
"The Valiant."
The new voice was unexpected and Ianto barely stifled a yelp as he slide off the front bumper and hit the ground in an ungraceful heap.
"Smooth, Jonesy," Owen groaned as he straightened up. "Smith."
"Gorman." Brown eyes cast his way. Hidden behind scarves and hoods, it was still clear it was a woman. She didn't offer him a hand as Ianto struggled to stand. She tracked him as he rose to his feet. "Jones, I presume. Any relation to Martha Jones?"
"No." It took a grip to his right hand before he was set back into a more dignified upright stance. "No relation. Common name."
"Like Smith," Owen drawled as he slapped the dust off Ianto's back.
Smith rolled her eyes. "You're late."
"Traffic," Owen quipped.
The news made her eyes narrow. "I see." She glanced around warily. Even with the lower half of her face concealed, Ianto could tell she was frowning.
"They've been out here later and later."
Owen shrugged. "So we'll be more careful." He nodded towards the back. "The usual and a bit of extra."
Smith beckoned a couple of men who were peering over piles of debris to come forward. "Extra?"
"Fireworks," Owen said then added when Smith tensed, "just in case."
"It would really help," Ianto spoke up. He stared squarely at Smith. Her eyes reminded him of the Time Lord; a witness to more than what was in front of her. "Anything would help."
Smith sighed as if this was a conversation she had far too many times. "Look-"
"Our friends are up there." Ianto pointed to the sky. "They're doing everything they can to help the Doctor. We need to do the same down here or there's no hope."
A coolness Ianto hadn't realized was there warmed a fraction in Smith's eyes.
"I've learned long ago that no matter how dire the circumstances, there is always hope." Smith reached over and grasped Ianto's hands. Her hands were delicate looking but the skin rough with months of toil.
"You have someone special up there," Smith guessed.
"We all have someone up there." Ianto glanced over to Owen, but he was talking to a small scruffy child, tipping the boy's chin back to study his teeth.
"Yes," Smith agreed, "we all do." She squeezed his hands. "And we'll get them all out."
Ianto started and stared at her, hope flaring in his chest. "Then you'll help?"
"I can only promise we'll try. The people-"
"They're scared." Ianto lowered his eyes. "I know. The satellites-"
"That's only part of it." Smith released his hands and folded her arms in front of her but it looked like it was more because she was cold.
"The Archangel network may be telling the people of this planet not to go against Saxon, but it's just a minute influence. Fear multiplied by the many is what we're fighting against."
"They're all afraid to be the first one to do something," Ianto murmured, "because they might be fighting alone."
Approval shone in Smith's eyes. "Yes. I'd been trying to explain that to Dr. Gorman here for a very long time."
"Well," Ianto joked weakly, "he only plays a doctor on the telly."
"Oi," Owen growled low as he rejoined them, "I heard that."
"Congratulations," Ianto shot back "I was worried about your auditory facilities."
Owen waved a dismissive hand towards him before he faced Smith.
"Widget's been telling me about the Valiant?"
Ianto shot him an alarmed look as Smith nodded.
"Ship arrived over Cardiff two days ago. No announcements. Nothing. But…"
"But?" Owen glanced up at the sky. The cluster of soft blue lights was the brightest thing up there.
"Some sort of alarm must have been rung out up there an hour ago. All communications and flights were closed, immediate lockdown." Smith studied them. "We've intercepted nothing from the Valiant for the past forty minutes."
"Your team seemed to always have very plausible information about the ship. Have you heard anything?"
Ianto bit his lower lip. He shook his head.
"I was cut off," Ianto whispered. He stared hard at the ground, at the feet all clustered around him. They blurred.
"We lost communication," Owen explained in a clipped tone. "We know even less than you."
"Ah." Smith sounded far too sympathetic. She stepped aside with Owen, their voices dropping even lower. Ianto could feel their eyes on him though. He wanted to climb back into the cab when a boy with tousled blond hair over his eyes peered up at him.
"Would you like me to check your heart?"
Ianto sniffed. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. What?"
The boy held up a dented, discolored stethoscope. There were scratches on the chrome from someone scrubbing too hard. The child grinned with a gap in his teeth.
"I can listen to your heart," the boy lisped. "Dr. Fred said it's good to hear what your heart has to say to you."
"Dr. Fred said that, did he?" Ianto smirked wanly. He sniffed again and stooped down. "Well then…what does it say?"
The stethoscope head was pocked with dents and dull with streaks. The boy placed it under his jaw by mistake, but he frowned in concentration as he listened with his eyes tightly shut.
"It’s sad," the child announced.
Ianto's smile faded. He forced his lips to curve again but it hurt his face. "You're…you're very good with that thing," Ianto rasped.
The boy's lower lip stuck out. "I made you mad."
Ianto shook his head. "No," he assured the child. One of his nephews was this boy's age. "I'm not mad."
"Do you miss your parents, too?"
Ianto sat down on the front bumper. He blinked rapidly so he could see the boy better. "I miss a lot of people. That's why my heart sounds sad."
The boy fiddled with the hearing piece of the stethoscope. "Me, too," he said, in a small voice. The child brightened. "But Dr. Fred said if I hear everyone's hearts and tell them, they would feel better. Do you feel better?"
It was easier to smile at such a hopeful face. "I do," Ianto told him. "Thank you."
The child beamed at him.
"Widget." Smith scolded as she approached. "I said you could come only if you promised not to bother them."
"Oh, he wasn't bothering me," Ianto hastened to say.
"Well, he was bothering me," Owen declared. He swatted at Widget's hair. "Scat, you little brat. It's already late."
Ianto bit back a grin when Widget suddenly hugged Owen's legs. The boy barely reached his hip, his arms couldn't even wrap around Owen properly.
"Thank you for the birthday present, Dr. Fred." Widget, although muffled against Owen's jeans, still sounded happy. It was a sound no one had heard in a very long time so Ianto wasn't surprised when he caught Smith's bright eyes crinkle as if she was smiling.
"Widget," Smith failed to sound stern enough.
"Go," Owen said gruffly. He gave Widget a light shove. "Before you give me your fleas."
"Okay, bye-bye." Widget chased after one of the men carrying the crates to help. The men merely ruffled the boy's hair as he hopped, trying to reach any edge to hold up. Widget was only appeased when one huge man let him carry a sack of potatoes the size of his head.
"I'll get our man out here to see you," Smith told Owen. She excused herself and hurried after Widget who was dropping potatoes like breadcrumbs behind him.
Owen glanced over to Ianto. He bristled at Ianto's smirk.
"Wasn't that yours?" Ianto asked. He swallowed back a snicker when Owen glowered at him.
"I don't need it." Owen flapped a hand at him as if he was shooing a gnat. "You rotten lot are upright and breathing. Don't need no rusty stethoscope to tell me that." Owen harrumphed.
"Stupid thing's all filthy anyway. I'll steal me a better one."
"Whatever you say, Dr. Fred."
"Shut up," Owen muttered. He shoved his hands in his pockets and made a point of staring away. He straightened when Smith returned with a young man Ianto's age.
"Gentlemen, may I give introductions?" Smith had a hand on the small of her friend's back.
"So you'll be escorting our Martha Jones when she arrives?" Owen didn't pull out his hand to offer a handshake. "You poor bastard, how did you end up with the short straw?"
"Owen," Ianto groaned. Antagonizing the only help the resistance had offered in weeks was not a recommended strategy.
Amusement made the man's eyes as dark as the sky above.
"Straw? There was no straw." The man smiled blithely. "I volunteered."
Owen threw Ianto a raised eyebrow. "Okay, volunteer. What's your name?"
"Milligan." The smile broadened to a determined grin. "My name is Tom Milligan."
Act III
Additional Notes: Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.