Fic: The Oncoming Storm (Slash, AU, Janto 40/40 Act 5/11)
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), sappy maudlin
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are events/dialogue here that was referenced in DW's "Last of the Time Lords"
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, Ch 40 2/11, Ch 40 3/11, Ch 40 4/11
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 40 "The Last of the Time Lords"
Act V: "Know your enemy."
Nuclear Plant Seven
Everyone was staring at the back of her head. Martha could sense it without looking.
"Sorry," Davidson murmured after the broadcast ended. Milligan did the same. They stirred restlessly behind her. They didn't know what else to say to her.
The old monitor looked like it was already a relic well before Saxon, garbled and unclear. The sound squawked and syllables were lost during the transmission.
But Martha saw all she needed.
"The Doctor's still alive," Martha said to herself. Her eyes burned mildly but the uncomfortable vise around her chest loosened. She hadn't been sure for the whole year. The telegrams weren't enough to ease her mind. Seeing him, even in his current state, made the aches lingering deep in her body go away. Martha smiled tightly to herself as she touched the tiny lump under her shirt.
Docherty lost all her sardonic attitude, stunned to docility by Saxon's broadcast. She had a face that must have been kind once but harsh living had carved her laugh lines deeper, making her more austere. Martha touched her own face. She hadn't looked at herself the whole year. She was afraid to. Now, looking at Docherty, Martha wanted to ask for a mirror.
Layers of worn clothing rustled as Docherty fidgeted and shuffled back to her mess of tools, her handmade sanctuary of blips and sparks.
"Obviously the Archangel Network would seem to be the Master's greatest weakness," Docherty reported shakily. Her hands hidden in fingerless gloves too big for her shook as she caressed her silent computer screen like a child. "Fifteen satellites all around Earth, still transmitting."
"And here I thought reality shows would be our downfall," Davidson muttered to himself. "Thought for sure Big Brother would ruin us all."
Docherty grunted. She waved a wrench towards Davidson like he was a gnat. "That's why there's so little resistance. It's broadcasting a telepathic signal that keeps people scared."
"We could just take them out," Milligan suggested.
Martha saw Docherty roll her eyes at him. "We could," she agreed in dry reply. "Fifteen ground-to-air missiles."
Davidson sighed. "I doubt Torchwood have any." He shot Martha a weak smirk. "Do you have any besides that invisible necklace with you?"
The weight of the crystal inside her shirt reassured her. It was the last thing the Doctor ever made, the last thing he touched. At mention, Martha's right hand automatically went for it.
"No, sorry." Martha brushed a finger on the inactive monitor. There was no glimpse of anyone from her family or Jack. She wondered if Torchwood was watching, too.
"Torchwood?"
Damn it. Martha schooled a smile to Docherty. "Nothing," Martha said, careful to sound casual. She shot Davidson a warning look which he returned with a blank one. "Just a code name for one of the resistance groups."
Thankfully Docherty didn't appear to notice Davidson and Milligan's baffled looks to each other. Lord, boys can be so stupid sometimes.
"What about those rockets Saxon's building?" Martha asked quickly when Docherty frowned to herself. Sure enough, the woman rolled her eyes again.
"Not the kind of rockets we need," Docherty said. Annoyance crossed her face and Martha wondered if the Doctor ever looked like that when he received a daft question like that.
"Besides," Docherty went on for the sake of trying to appear patient, "any military action, the Toclafane descend."
"They're not called Toclafane," Martha interrupted, her voice harsher than necessary. "That's a name the Master made up."
"Then what are they, then?" Docherty shot back, irritated. She looked like she wanted to swing the wrench back towards them again. Or maybe throw it at them.
The familiar mixture of challenge and doubt stared back at Martha. Martha resisted the urge to smile, not that it was funny. She knew, expected, it would take some convincing. It was ironic she was going against her own legend: the great Martha Jones.
"That's why I came to find you," Martha said carefully. "Know your enemy." Martha pulled out the CD she slept with close to her heart since South Africa. "I've got this."
It was with reluctance after weeks of safeguarding it that she gave the disc to Davidson to pass on to Docherty. Martha automatically took a step closer to the woman, her eyes glued to the shiny circle.
"No one's been able to look at a sphere close up," Martha explained. She stayed by the professor's right as the woman pulled wires and yanked out a keyboard. The look on the woman's face changed to one of piqued interest. Martha fought the temptation to call her 'Professor'. That title had too many reminders attached to it.
"They can't even be damaged. Except once." Martha folded her arms in front of her. She still remembered the survivors of the lab who made the discovery.
"A lightning strike in South Africa brought one of them down. Just by chance." Martha nodded towards the CD Docherty held up for inspection. "I've got the readings on this."
"And why didn't you ask the ones who made the readings?" Davidson wanted to know.
Martha set her mouth. "Because I couldn't." She had wanted so much to bring them back to Britain with her. Martha rubbed her left palm on her thigh. The shovel she used to dig their graves had cut into her hand. The scar was hidden under the fingerless gloves Daniel had given her but it still itched at the memory of dry dirt surrounding her like a dust cloud each time she stuck the shovel into the ground.
Whatever Davidson saw gave him the answer. His mouth snapped shut and he stared at her with large eyes.
Docherty chose not to question as well and she slipped the CD into the tray of her computer. Her computer swallowed it up and her monitor hummed. Then it squawked.
"Stupid…" Docherty gave her computer a few good whacks on the monitor before a logo appeared.
"Oh, whoever thought we'd miss Bill Gates."
"Actually, I prefer Macintosh," Davidson muttered but his eyes were glued to the screen.
Milligan chewed his lower lip, his brow furrowed.
"So is that why you traveled the world?" Milligan pointed towards the screen. "To find a disc?"
"No." Martha shrugged. "Just got lucky." Martha averted her gaze. She was the one who always got lucky.
Docherty glanced over her shoulder at Martha. "I heard stories that you walked the Earth to find a way to build a weapon."
Martha smiled to herself. It could be called that.
"There!" Docherty jabbed a finger at her streaked monitor. "A current of 58.5 kilo amperes transferred charge of five hundred and ten megajoules precisely.
Milligan crowded Martha and the professor. "Can you recreate that?" he asked, his eyes brighter now.
Still staring at the computer, Docherty nodded. "I think so. Easily, yes."
Martha wished she could feel what the two men were feeling-their faces' shadows receded quickly-but after seeing the Doctor was still alive, frankly, Martha couldn't feel anything else. It was too exhausting to go from one emotion to the next. It had been generally a state of left foot, right foot all year and that spark of elation Martha felt seeing the Doctor was tempered by the sheer exhaustion that made smiling a chore. She still recognized what the CD promised though; she forced herself to grin at the hope that melted the years off the men's faces and clap Milligan by the arm.
"All right then, Dr Milligan, we're gonna get us a sphere."
Torchwood, Cardiff
After the telegraph stopped clicking, Ianto checked the message he had written down again. The ledger pad sat by his crossed legs on the cool, damp ground, barely legible by the dying kerosene lamp.
'MJ on shore.'
Ianto sighed. Martha was finally here and hopefully on her way, if not already, to Professor Docherty's with Andy and Tom. But the flutter in his belly was no longer for Martha's arrival, but for what he just saw minutes before.
"Nine hundred," Ianto murmured to himself. He covered his face with both hands. He didn't know what was the normal lifespan of a Time Lord but it looked like according to Saxon, nine hundred was pretty close to the end.
"Christ." The word whooshed out heavily. Ianto knew Gwen and Owen were still in shock, puttering around in the Hub aimlessly because until they heard from Martha, there was nothing else they could do. What could Martha possibly be thinking right now after that transmission? Or Tosh? Or-God-or Jack?
"Jack," Ianto whispered. His face crumbled then smoothed out as he fought for composure. His hands curled harshly on his face and he breathed sharply through his teeth before it felt safe to look up again.
When Ianto lowered his hands, Ianto spied a tiny shadow by the telegraph. It quivered in the dark, too small to be of anything worth being alarmed over. It would easily fit in his palm if Ianto were to reach over and snatch it. Not that he would. He'd seen enough of them scurry about down in the vaults to deem them harmless.
The kerosene lamp by the telegraph flickered brighter as it struggled to burn what little fuel was left. The room lightened, confirming Ianto's suspicions.
"I'm afraid there's not much food here," Ianto told the small house mouse that stood on its hind legs, its front paws bent and tucked under its chin and silvery white whiskers.
It was a rather healthy looking mouse with its dark brown short fur that reminded Ianto of shiny coffee beans, large petal shaped ears folded back to its head and a white furred belly that gleamed almost blue in the lamplight. It tilted its head and its whiskers quivered. Its huge brown eyes blinked at Ianto.
"Don't worry," Ianto murmured when its tail curled close to itself at his voice, "I won't hurt you. There are bigger things to fear out there. I think humanity is the last thing you need to worry about right now."
The tail flicked away from its body, the ears perked up and the creature scampered forward into the light.
"Hello," Ianto rasped when it approached closer to his right foot.
"Hello," the mouse replied pleasantly enough.
"Shit!" Ianto yelped, kicking out his right foot and it went zipping through the spot where the mouse stood. Ianto scrambled backwards, sliding on his bum a few inches before he stopped.
The mouse was still there only now it was curled up into a tight ball of fluffed fur the size of a golf ball, its front paws over its eyes, ears flat over its head, tail wound tightly around itself.
And it was still talking.
"…stupid apes! Always promising you are harmless then you go lashing out at every life form that tries to offer salutations with such brute manners. Very contradictory to what your deep space probe Xavier V was promising that you're a peaceful race. Although you humans really should have programmed it better because it crashed into my TARDIS just when I was having my tea and my ship was so very cross with me for forgetting her shields again, she brewed the most horrid smelling herbal tea all mon-"
"D-doctor?" Ianto gasped. It was slightly higher pitched but the voice, or at least the rambling, was unmistakable.
The ranting stopped. The tail unfurled and the paws lowered from its chocolate brown eyes.
"Are you going to kick me again?" the Doctor asked warily. The furry pink nose wiggled. "Although I should expect no less. You did punch me once."
Ianto stared. It was unnerving to see comprehensible words coming out of the tiny mouth. Every other word came out in a whistled lisp due to tiny teeth in a mouth meant to nibble, not converse. Thankfully, the mouse, or Doctor or whatever didn't come closer.
"T-that didn't hurt you. It couldn't have," Ianto managed. He looked around the quarters but there was no other shadow. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. "I'm asleep again, aren't I? You're just a mental projection-granted, a very odd mental projection-so that didn't hurt you."
The whiskers vibrated in uncanny human annoyance.
"And how would you react if you're only two point four three centimeters tall and a size forty-six shoe comes thundering down on top of you?"
Good point but Ianto still protested feebly. "M-my shoe size isn't forty-six."
"Are you cross because I underestimated or overestimated? You do know that it's only a myth that a human male's shoe size is relative to the size of his-"
"Doctor!" Ianto yelped again, his ears burning. There was an urge to kick the Doctor again, regardless of what the Time Lord had said.
The furry head cocked to consider him, its ears perked up in a very mousy fashion.
"Yes?"
Ianto waved towards the current, short and very furry, Doctor. Good Lord. To think he was going to offer it a treat!
"Why…how…I thought Jack was the only one who had a connection with…with…" Ianto couldn't finish.
"Normally that's true, but your vicinity to the Rift has left you receptive to numerous types of psychic communications. It gave me the perfect opportunity to borrow your current link with Jack to piggyback an alpha wave back to you telepathically."
Ianto understood enough of it to scowl at the creature. "So, what you're saying is you hacked into our link?" He wasn't sure how he should feel about that.
The mouse did a little jig and clapped with its front paws. "Yes, yes! That's a very good word! That's exactly I did! I hacked!"
Laughing mice were truly disturbing to witness. Its fur quivered as if at any moment the mouse would spring up and plaster itself onto his face. Ianto edged away from the mouse-Doctor hybrid an inch more. Just in case.
"Okay, so you…hacked into our link," Ianto said when it looked like the mouse, er, the Doctor was going to launch into an anecdote on whatever this bizarre turn of events reminded him of.
"Why me and why…that?" Ianto gestured towards the creature by his knee. Only a projection, Ianto told himself. You didn't fall down a rabbit hole. Don't swat the Time Lord away. Only a projection. Only a projection.
The soft ears did a funny wiggle and the mouse uncurled back into its tiny sleek form. With a light and almost bouncy stride, the mouse/Doctor approached until it got to Ianto's left knee.
"I couldn't manage a full biological projection without compromising our connection through my TARDIS because of my current downgraded physical state. So I substituted the neurological template for a smaller facsimile that was native to your environment so if we were detected, I would be dismissed as part of the surroundings."
The Doctor finished with a final squeaked syllable and the mouse sat down on all fours and lifted its round brown eyes up expectedly at Ianto as if waiting for applause.
Ianto's mouth snapped shut. "Oh…I see." He did. Sort of. Maybe. "Because you're nine hundred years old now?"
The pointy snout wrinkled and little front paws flapped at him in a shooing fashion.
"Really, weren't you taught it was rude to mention one's age?"
"Saxon broadcast it everywhere," Ianto pointed out.
The whiskers drooped a little. "Yes. Can't be helped, I'm afraid. He wanted all of you, including Martha to see." The mouse raised its head.
"She's here, isn't she?"
"Yes, landed just a few hours ago so she would have seen the broadcast."
Ianto regretted saying anything. He felt like a heel when the mouse shivered. He ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. "Um…Are…are you all right?"
"Hm? Me? Oh yes-well, the Master has me in a birdcage, but aside from some age acceleration, I am well. Nothing's changed. The plan still goes as planned."
"Nothing's changed?" Ianto choked. "You're…Doctor, you're a rat."
Its fur stood on end. The mouse stood up on two feet like a prairie dog. "I am most certainly not! The rat is a completely different genus! I'm not part of Rattus! Mus musculus is what I am! I'm of healthy weight, sleek fur, quite clean, pleasing fur coloration, male and oh-hold on."
Ianto raised an eyebrow as the Doctor's thin tail curled up in the air and the Doctor twisted his head around. The mouse/Doctor made a tiny and very mouse-like squeak, tail shooting up like an antenna and whiskers bristling straight.
"I can't believe it! She did it to me again!" The mouse chattered in a rapid-fire of squeaks as it waved its front paws in the air as if it was berating something.
"Uh…Doctor?"
A mouse sighing was just as strange to behold. It looked like a ball of lint that just shrank.
"Oh, never mind. Yes, nothing's changed despite this. Once Martha's with you, I need you three and Martha to go get Jack-"
Ianto leaned forward. "Wait. Have you seen him? Is he all right?"
The whiskers sagged to the ground now.
"Doctor?" Ianto bit his lower lip. "Is Jack okay?"
"No," the Doctor sighed. "Not really. But he is where Saxon can't hurt him now."
"I…I don't understand."
"I sent Jack deep within his own mind."
Ianto screwed up his face. "Pardon? He's asleep?"
The mouse shook its head.
"Is it like before? A mental block?"
"Not really." The mouse looked ridiculous when it folded its short, fat front legs across its chest in a gesture of deep thought. "A…how would you call it? Ah yes…coma is what I think this century calls it."
"A coma?"
"Oh, no, no, no, not really, but sort of. Not quite. Similar. Close."
Ianto thought for sure his chest was going to burst. "So Jack's aware of his surroundings?"
"Not really."
"Can he move?"
"Not at the moment. Not on his own, no."
"Can he talk to us?"
"Hmm, doubtful."
Ianto glared at the mouse. "That fits within the parameters of a coma, sir." He wondered how bad it would be really to indulge in one good stomp. Mental projection, right?
The mouse's whiskers whipped back up and brown eyes squinted at Ianto as if it had read Ianto's mind. Ianto swallowed and wiggled back another inch away from it.
"Look, he's…he's in a sort of trance. In his state, Saxon can't do anything to him at this point."
Ianto averted his gaze. "He still can…physically."
"He's left Jack alone, Ianto Jones."
Ianto couldn't look at the mouse. He blinked until his vision cleared before he faced forward.
Whiskers drooped again. The mouse's chin nearly touched the ground.
"I've done all I can."
Ianto took a deep breath. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply…" Ianto dropped his head. "Jack was here before. He told me you tried to get him off the ship. Is that why Saxon…"
"The Master is a bit miffed at me. That was part of the reason, yes. I thought if I adopted a more conciliatory tone with Lucy Saxon, I could get her to help us." The mouse skipped closer. It craned its neck to look up at Ianto with intense warm eyes.
"Saxon's wife?" Brow furrowing, Ianto folded his arms. "You choose the strangest allies, sir."
"Yes, well, I had to try." The mouse sat down into a puff of fur. The ears pulled back. "Saxon and his wife are far too gone. They've dissevered themselves from logic and reason. The vortex has been feeding on the dark spots in their minds. The Master's blinded by his own narcissism that what he's doing is right. Madness. Absolute pure madness." Fur ruffled as the mouse shivered.
Ianto couldn't find an ounce of sympathy for the pair and the sympathetic tone the Doctor wore made his lips press into a thin line.
"You're still thinking about saving Saxon."
The mouse looked up unblinking. "I want to try."
"After all he's done, after everything he has put Jack through-"
"I said I wanted to try, Ianto Jones." The high-pitched quality vanished and it felt like the Doctor's voice echoed everywhere. "Try. If all else fails…I don't give second chances."
Ianto gulped and nodded wordlessly.
Tiny paws paced silently on the concrete floor as the mouse walked around in a circle before it stopped.
Ianto cleared his throat carefully.
"Doctor?"
The mouse stopped and stared at Ianto with an unnerving bright-eyed intensity.
"Before…we…you suggested that Jack's timeline had been tampered with. Changed, you mean?"
The tiny nod made his insides knot.
"Do you think…" Ianto found it hard to speak. "Do you think Jack was never suppose to be here… with m-us?"
The eyes were unusually dark and warm. The mouse lightly trotted closer to him.
"I'm sorry, but I just don't know. I would…usually, but the Master's corrupted the timeline so much, everything's clouded…I…I just don't know."
"Oh." Ianto looked down at the frayed hem of his jeans. Gwen had patched up the knees as the material wore thin but it was getting clear the denim was barely staying together. He couldn't bring himself to bin it though.
The mouse exhaled low. It sounded sad. The thin tail wound around its body.
"I've found in all my years that the universe, in all its intricacies and follies, has a brilliant way of sorting out its timelines and conclusions."
Ianto frowned at the Doctor.
Tiny paws rubbed at its soft face before the mouse looked up and clarified.
"Things have a way of working themselves out."
Ianto gave the Doctor a wan smile and nodded. "Are you going to try and get Jack out again?" Ianto asked after a moment's hesitation. He lowered his eyes when the small furry head shook a negative. "Oh."
"Lucy Saxon will not listen to me any more. We're nearly there though. With Martha here and the rockets near completion, our deadline is down to hours now instead of days or weeks."
Ianto could only nod again. He could hear the pounding in his ears. Ianto rubbed his palms on his trousers.
"So we sneak into the Valiant, find Jack and…" Ianto bit his lower lip. "We were planning to destroy the satellites then kill…" He clamped his mouth shut.
The mouse's eyes were almost black. "Leave Saxon and the Archangel network to me."
Ianto stared. "Not trying to be rude, sir, but you're nine hundred years old. You can't expect-"
"Leave Saxon to me."
The tone was once again pure Time Lord and its sonorous tone reverberated inside Ianto's head. Ianto's mouth was partially opened as he stared at eyes that were as dark and endless as the dying Utopian night sky.
"What…what about the satellites?"
"Your Toshiko Sato will be handling that."
Tosh? A chill danced up his arms. "How?"
"I can not say."
"And what about you?"
"Jack will see to me."
"How? You said he was in a coma."
"That's why I need you up there with Martha. Find Jack. Find Toshiko Sato. I'll be all right."
There were so many questions Ianto wanted to ask. He opened his mouth to ask when the mouse gave a full body shiver.
"Doctor?"
The mouse's fur seemed to gray in front of him.
"The TARDIS can't keep this up. Time, like me, is currently short. No more questions. I need you to pay very close attention, Ianto Jones. Everyone on the Valiant has a part. When the time comes, I need you to get Jack. He'll know what to do next."
Ianto met the tiny face's solemn gaze. He nodded then he paused.
"How will I know when the time comes?"
The mouse merely stared.
Ianto rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. I'll know."
Little paws clapped and the urge to flick at it made Ianto's fingers twitch.
"Now, you still have his wrist strap, yes? Good, that's good. Now remember these instructions and memorize the coordinates. Pay attention now…"
Ianto wasn't sure how long it took. The Doctor made him recite the directions over and over again and he was still repeating them when he woke up an indefinable time later and found his head pillowed by his bent right arm by the telegraph. Owen sat across from him cross legged on the floor with the kerosene lamp in-between them, wearing a scowl on his face.
Ianto gazed up at him with bleary eyes. "Oh," he mumbled and sat up. He checked the floor. No mouse. No Jack either.
"I'm calling you narcolepsy boy from now on," Owen declared. He didn't move from his seated position. He narrowed his eyes, tracking Ianto as he sat up. "You're lucky you didn't hit your head."
Ianto ignored him. As soon as he sighted the ledger pad he scribbled the telegrams on, Ianto tore a clean page out of it and frantically wrote down everything he could remember. Done, Ianto squinted myopically at his handwriting and read it in a mumble to test how it sounded in his ear. Satisfied, Ianto thrust it at Owen's face.
"I don't want no stinking love letter from you," Owen griped but he took it anyway. He held the paper to his nose. His eyes widened. Owen lowered the paper and stared at Ianto.
"Jack?"
He wished. Ianto shook his head. "The Doctor actually."
"The Doctor? What are you? A two legged IM? Should I call you Ping boy instead?"
Ianto glared at him. "It's difficult to explain."
Owen held up a hand. "Then I don't want to hear it." He looked at the paper in his hand again. "So…h-he's all right then? Nine hundred years old, short as a gnome and he can still-"
"Yeah," Ianto murmured. He spied Owen's shoulders relaxing.
"Well…fuck," Owen breathed. He unfolded his legs and stood up. There was a smirk on his face when he met Ianto's eyes. "Better hold on to this, narco boy."
Ianto scowled but took care not to tear the paper. "I think I liked Jonesy better, Harper."
"Tough," was Owen's reply. He still appeared in a bit of shock. Owen rubbed the back of his neck.
"This is good." Owen phrased it almost as if he was afraid to make it a question.
Ianto just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Owen folded his arms together. He pursed his mouth in thought.
"This is good," Owen repeated. It looked like he was testing how it sounded.
"I think Gwen would want to know," Ianto suggested, his own mouth curving when Owen's mirrored in response, "this isn't over yet."
"In fact, I think we're just getting started."
Valiant
"I'm gonna kill him."
Toshiko tore her eyes away from the dark monitor that hung from the ceiling outside their cells. It was pointless to stare at it. Nothing more would be broadcast. She should be grateful for that. Toshiko flicked away the stubborn moisture out of the corners of her eyes.
"If I have to wait a hundred years, I'm going to kill the Master."
Toshiko drew closer to the fence that stood between her and the Jones family. She winced as she watched Clive bandage Francine's ankle with fresh gauze.
"One day he'll let his guard down." Francine hissed and her foot jerked in Clive's careful grasp. Clive rubbed his palm on the heel of her foot in apology. "One day," Francine swore. Tosh wasn't sure if her voice was rough because of the pain or something else. Morbidly, Toshiko hoped it was the pain.
"And I'll be there." Francine bunched a fist and pressed it to her chest.
Toshiko turned around to sit against the fence. She blinked rapidly at the empty screen.
"No," Clive spoke up, "that's my job." He got up and sat down heavily next to Francine, behind Toshiko. "I swear to you. I'll shoot that man stone dead."
Toshiko smiled to herself when she heard Clive give Francine a kiss. Francine sighed deeply and huddled against Clive.
"I'll get him," Tish suddenly said after being silent for so long. The bed she sat on creaked. Her voice was still wispy with shock. "Even if it kills me."
"Don't say that," Toshiko murmured. She closed her eyes. It was strange, but hearing Tish made her feel so old." You don't mean that."
The fence vibrated when Tish leaned against it next to Francine, back to back with Toshiko. She sniffed.
"I mean it," Tish declared. Another sniff. "That man made us stand on deck and watch Japan burn. Millions of peo-"
"Tish!" Francine hissed.
There was a stunned silence before Tish gasped.
"Oh God, I-I'm sorry! I-"
"It's all right," Toshiko interrupted, her voice hoarse. It wasn't all right. Not really.
The fence gave again when Tish slumped back against it.
Toshiko felt a finger poke through the fence to gingerly stroke her right shoulder.
"I'm fine, Francine," Toshiko murmured and Francine scoffed.
"Child, none of us have been fine all these months…" Francine paused. "How long has it been now?"
"A year," Toshiko whispered, her eyes filling. She stared at the tick marks on the wall she had made with the tines of her fork when the guards brought in their meals. She wondered if the others on Earth did that, if they had meals everyday to mark time. She knew Jack didn't have that.
"God's strength," Clive swore.
Toshiko stared hard at the floor and waited for the blurring to go away.
"The Doctor…" Francine began in a whisper. Toshiko checked the doors but the guard wasn't watching them.
"It's done. I was to get that thing to Jack and go to the computer room, get into the Archangel controls again," Toshiko hushed, her mouth pressed to the fence. "This changes nothing." At Francine's disbelieving look, Toshiko amended, "Okay, maybe a little, but Jack-"
"Love, from what I saw of Jack Harkness," Francine interrupted, her eyes crinkled at her through the fence, "I don't know what it'll do to give that to him. Maybe we should-"
Toshiko shook her head. Her stomach churned at what Francine had described before. God, Jack. "It's good for only one shot. Just one. So it needs to count. And the Doctor thinks it will count…if I give it to Jack. Remember his messages? The Doctor said no matter what happens; make sure it gets to Jack. He'll know what to do."
Francine didn't agree or refute her. Her dark eyes shone through the fence at Toshiko, assessing, deciding. After a moment, Francine nodded even when it looked like she didn't want to.
"All right," Francine murmured, "we'll try it his way but if it doesn't work…I'm not standing by and letting Saxon put his filthy hands on my Martha."
"He won't get that chance, I promise you," Clive uttered darkly.
Toshiko observed Francine's determination that set her mouth into a hard thin line. She nodded.
"I swear to you, he's dead," Tish muttered to her mother in half-hearted defiance.
Francine merely exhaled and guided her daughter's head into her lap. Weary, worn, Francine didn't argue and stroked her daughter's hair.
"He'll pay, mum. He has to." Tish sniffled and press her wet face to Francine's thigh.
Toshiko stared at the dark monitor outside her cell and thought about the Doctor, her friends and what Francine told her about Jack. Toshiko thought about the device finished and hidden in the lavatories across from the server room.
"Don't worry," Toshiko said, more to herself. Just one more thing to do. One more.
"He will pay."
Act VI
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), sappy maudlin
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are events/dialogue here that was referenced in DW's "Last of the Time Lords"
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, Ch 40 2/11, Ch 40 3/11, Ch 40 4/11
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 40 "The Last of the Time Lords"
Act V: "Know your enemy."
Nuclear Plant Seven
Everyone was staring at the back of her head. Martha could sense it without looking.
"Sorry," Davidson murmured after the broadcast ended. Milligan did the same. They stirred restlessly behind her. They didn't know what else to say to her.
The old monitor looked like it was already a relic well before Saxon, garbled and unclear. The sound squawked and syllables were lost during the transmission.
But Martha saw all she needed.
"The Doctor's still alive," Martha said to herself. Her eyes burned mildly but the uncomfortable vise around her chest loosened. She hadn't been sure for the whole year. The telegrams weren't enough to ease her mind. Seeing him, even in his current state, made the aches lingering deep in her body go away. Martha smiled tightly to herself as she touched the tiny lump under her shirt.
Docherty lost all her sardonic attitude, stunned to docility by Saxon's broadcast. She had a face that must have been kind once but harsh living had carved her laugh lines deeper, making her more austere. Martha touched her own face. She hadn't looked at herself the whole year. She was afraid to. Now, looking at Docherty, Martha wanted to ask for a mirror.
Layers of worn clothing rustled as Docherty fidgeted and shuffled back to her mess of tools, her handmade sanctuary of blips and sparks.
"Obviously the Archangel Network would seem to be the Master's greatest weakness," Docherty reported shakily. Her hands hidden in fingerless gloves too big for her shook as she caressed her silent computer screen like a child. "Fifteen satellites all around Earth, still transmitting."
"And here I thought reality shows would be our downfall," Davidson muttered to himself. "Thought for sure Big Brother would ruin us all."
Docherty grunted. She waved a wrench towards Davidson like he was a gnat. "That's why there's so little resistance. It's broadcasting a telepathic signal that keeps people scared."
"We could just take them out," Milligan suggested.
Martha saw Docherty roll her eyes at him. "We could," she agreed in dry reply. "Fifteen ground-to-air missiles."
Davidson sighed. "I doubt Torchwood have any." He shot Martha a weak smirk. "Do you have any besides that invisible necklace with you?"
The weight of the crystal inside her shirt reassured her. It was the last thing the Doctor ever made, the last thing he touched. At mention, Martha's right hand automatically went for it.
"No, sorry." Martha brushed a finger on the inactive monitor. There was no glimpse of anyone from her family or Jack. She wondered if Torchwood was watching, too.
"Torchwood?"
Damn it. Martha schooled a smile to Docherty. "Nothing," Martha said, careful to sound casual. She shot Davidson a warning look which he returned with a blank one. "Just a code name for one of the resistance groups."
Thankfully Docherty didn't appear to notice Davidson and Milligan's baffled looks to each other. Lord, boys can be so stupid sometimes.
"What about those rockets Saxon's building?" Martha asked quickly when Docherty frowned to herself. Sure enough, the woman rolled her eyes again.
"Not the kind of rockets we need," Docherty said. Annoyance crossed her face and Martha wondered if the Doctor ever looked like that when he received a daft question like that.
"Besides," Docherty went on for the sake of trying to appear patient, "any military action, the Toclafane descend."
"They're not called Toclafane," Martha interrupted, her voice harsher than necessary. "That's a name the Master made up."
"Then what are they, then?" Docherty shot back, irritated. She looked like she wanted to swing the wrench back towards them again. Or maybe throw it at them.
The familiar mixture of challenge and doubt stared back at Martha. Martha resisted the urge to smile, not that it was funny. She knew, expected, it would take some convincing. It was ironic she was going against her own legend: the great Martha Jones.
"That's why I came to find you," Martha said carefully. "Know your enemy." Martha pulled out the CD she slept with close to her heart since South Africa. "I've got this."
It was with reluctance after weeks of safeguarding it that she gave the disc to Davidson to pass on to Docherty. Martha automatically took a step closer to the woman, her eyes glued to the shiny circle.
"No one's been able to look at a sphere close up," Martha explained. She stayed by the professor's right as the woman pulled wires and yanked out a keyboard. The look on the woman's face changed to one of piqued interest. Martha fought the temptation to call her 'Professor'. That title had too many reminders attached to it.
"They can't even be damaged. Except once." Martha folded her arms in front of her. She still remembered the survivors of the lab who made the discovery.
"A lightning strike in South Africa brought one of them down. Just by chance." Martha nodded towards the CD Docherty held up for inspection. "I've got the readings on this."
"And why didn't you ask the ones who made the readings?" Davidson wanted to know.
Martha set her mouth. "Because I couldn't." She had wanted so much to bring them back to Britain with her. Martha rubbed her left palm on her thigh. The shovel she used to dig their graves had cut into her hand. The scar was hidden under the fingerless gloves Daniel had given her but it still itched at the memory of dry dirt surrounding her like a dust cloud each time she stuck the shovel into the ground.
Whatever Davidson saw gave him the answer. His mouth snapped shut and he stared at her with large eyes.
Docherty chose not to question as well and she slipped the CD into the tray of her computer. Her computer swallowed it up and her monitor hummed. Then it squawked.
"Stupid…" Docherty gave her computer a few good whacks on the monitor before a logo appeared.
"Oh, whoever thought we'd miss Bill Gates."
"Actually, I prefer Macintosh," Davidson muttered but his eyes were glued to the screen.
Milligan chewed his lower lip, his brow furrowed.
"So is that why you traveled the world?" Milligan pointed towards the screen. "To find a disc?"
"No." Martha shrugged. "Just got lucky." Martha averted her gaze. She was the one who always got lucky.
Docherty glanced over her shoulder at Martha. "I heard stories that you walked the Earth to find a way to build a weapon."
Martha smiled to herself. It could be called that.
"There!" Docherty jabbed a finger at her streaked monitor. "A current of 58.5 kilo amperes transferred charge of five hundred and ten megajoules precisely.
Milligan crowded Martha and the professor. "Can you recreate that?" he asked, his eyes brighter now.
Still staring at the computer, Docherty nodded. "I think so. Easily, yes."
Martha wished she could feel what the two men were feeling-their faces' shadows receded quickly-but after seeing the Doctor was still alive, frankly, Martha couldn't feel anything else. It was too exhausting to go from one emotion to the next. It had been generally a state of left foot, right foot all year and that spark of elation Martha felt seeing the Doctor was tempered by the sheer exhaustion that made smiling a chore. She still recognized what the CD promised though; she forced herself to grin at the hope that melted the years off the men's faces and clap Milligan by the arm.
"All right then, Dr Milligan, we're gonna get us a sphere."
Torchwood, Cardiff
After the telegraph stopped clicking, Ianto checked the message he had written down again. The ledger pad sat by his crossed legs on the cool, damp ground, barely legible by the dying kerosene lamp.
'MJ on shore.'
Ianto sighed. Martha was finally here and hopefully on her way, if not already, to Professor Docherty's with Andy and Tom. But the flutter in his belly was no longer for Martha's arrival, but for what he just saw minutes before.
"Nine hundred," Ianto murmured to himself. He covered his face with both hands. He didn't know what was the normal lifespan of a Time Lord but it looked like according to Saxon, nine hundred was pretty close to the end.
"Christ." The word whooshed out heavily. Ianto knew Gwen and Owen were still in shock, puttering around in the Hub aimlessly because until they heard from Martha, there was nothing else they could do. What could Martha possibly be thinking right now after that transmission? Or Tosh? Or-God-or Jack?
"Jack," Ianto whispered. His face crumbled then smoothed out as he fought for composure. His hands curled harshly on his face and he breathed sharply through his teeth before it felt safe to look up again.
When Ianto lowered his hands, Ianto spied a tiny shadow by the telegraph. It quivered in the dark, too small to be of anything worth being alarmed over. It would easily fit in his palm if Ianto were to reach over and snatch it. Not that he would. He'd seen enough of them scurry about down in the vaults to deem them harmless.
The kerosene lamp by the telegraph flickered brighter as it struggled to burn what little fuel was left. The room lightened, confirming Ianto's suspicions.
"I'm afraid there's not much food here," Ianto told the small house mouse that stood on its hind legs, its front paws bent and tucked under its chin and silvery white whiskers.
It was a rather healthy looking mouse with its dark brown short fur that reminded Ianto of shiny coffee beans, large petal shaped ears folded back to its head and a white furred belly that gleamed almost blue in the lamplight. It tilted its head and its whiskers quivered. Its huge brown eyes blinked at Ianto.
"Don't worry," Ianto murmured when its tail curled close to itself at his voice, "I won't hurt you. There are bigger things to fear out there. I think humanity is the last thing you need to worry about right now."
The tail flicked away from its body, the ears perked up and the creature scampered forward into the light.
"Hello," Ianto rasped when it approached closer to his right foot.
"Hello," the mouse replied pleasantly enough.
"Shit!" Ianto yelped, kicking out his right foot and it went zipping through the spot where the mouse stood. Ianto scrambled backwards, sliding on his bum a few inches before he stopped.
The mouse was still there only now it was curled up into a tight ball of fluffed fur the size of a golf ball, its front paws over its eyes, ears flat over its head, tail wound tightly around itself.
And it was still talking.
"…stupid apes! Always promising you are harmless then you go lashing out at every life form that tries to offer salutations with such brute manners. Very contradictory to what your deep space probe Xavier V was promising that you're a peaceful race. Although you humans really should have programmed it better because it crashed into my TARDIS just when I was having my tea and my ship was so very cross with me for forgetting her shields again, she brewed the most horrid smelling herbal tea all mon-"
"D-doctor?" Ianto gasped. It was slightly higher pitched but the voice, or at least the rambling, was unmistakable.
The ranting stopped. The tail unfurled and the paws lowered from its chocolate brown eyes.
"Are you going to kick me again?" the Doctor asked warily. The furry pink nose wiggled. "Although I should expect no less. You did punch me once."
Ianto stared. It was unnerving to see comprehensible words coming out of the tiny mouth. Every other word came out in a whistled lisp due to tiny teeth in a mouth meant to nibble, not converse. Thankfully, the mouse, or Doctor or whatever didn't come closer.
"T-that didn't hurt you. It couldn't have," Ianto managed. He looked around the quarters but there was no other shadow. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. "I'm asleep again, aren't I? You're just a mental projection-granted, a very odd mental projection-so that didn't hurt you."
The whiskers vibrated in uncanny human annoyance.
"And how would you react if you're only two point four three centimeters tall and a size forty-six shoe comes thundering down on top of you?"
Good point but Ianto still protested feebly. "M-my shoe size isn't forty-six."
"Are you cross because I underestimated or overestimated? You do know that it's only a myth that a human male's shoe size is relative to the size of his-"
"Doctor!" Ianto yelped again, his ears burning. There was an urge to kick the Doctor again, regardless of what the Time Lord had said.
The furry head cocked to consider him, its ears perked up in a very mousy fashion.
"Yes?"
Ianto waved towards the current, short and very furry, Doctor. Good Lord. To think he was going to offer it a treat!
"Why…how…I thought Jack was the only one who had a connection with…with…" Ianto couldn't finish.
"Normally that's true, but your vicinity to the Rift has left you receptive to numerous types of psychic communications. It gave me the perfect opportunity to borrow your current link with Jack to piggyback an alpha wave back to you telepathically."
Ianto understood enough of it to scowl at the creature. "So, what you're saying is you hacked into our link?" He wasn't sure how he should feel about that.
The mouse did a little jig and clapped with its front paws. "Yes, yes! That's a very good word! That's exactly I did! I hacked!"
Laughing mice were truly disturbing to witness. Its fur quivered as if at any moment the mouse would spring up and plaster itself onto his face. Ianto edged away from the mouse-Doctor hybrid an inch more. Just in case.
"Okay, so you…hacked into our link," Ianto said when it looked like the mouse, er, the Doctor was going to launch into an anecdote on whatever this bizarre turn of events reminded him of.
"Why me and why…that?" Ianto gestured towards the creature by his knee. Only a projection, Ianto told himself. You didn't fall down a rabbit hole. Don't swat the Time Lord away. Only a projection. Only a projection.
The soft ears did a funny wiggle and the mouse uncurled back into its tiny sleek form. With a light and almost bouncy stride, the mouse/Doctor approached until it got to Ianto's left knee.
"I couldn't manage a full biological projection without compromising our connection through my TARDIS because of my current downgraded physical state. So I substituted the neurological template for a smaller facsimile that was native to your environment so if we were detected, I would be dismissed as part of the surroundings."
The Doctor finished with a final squeaked syllable and the mouse sat down on all fours and lifted its round brown eyes up expectedly at Ianto as if waiting for applause.
Ianto's mouth snapped shut. "Oh…I see." He did. Sort of. Maybe. "Because you're nine hundred years old now?"
The pointy snout wrinkled and little front paws flapped at him in a shooing fashion.
"Really, weren't you taught it was rude to mention one's age?"
"Saxon broadcast it everywhere," Ianto pointed out.
The whiskers drooped a little. "Yes. Can't be helped, I'm afraid. He wanted all of you, including Martha to see." The mouse raised its head.
"She's here, isn't she?"
"Yes, landed just a few hours ago so she would have seen the broadcast."
Ianto regretted saying anything. He felt like a heel when the mouse shivered. He ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip. "Um…Are…are you all right?"
"Hm? Me? Oh yes-well, the Master has me in a birdcage, but aside from some age acceleration, I am well. Nothing's changed. The plan still goes as planned."
"Nothing's changed?" Ianto choked. "You're…Doctor, you're a rat."
Its fur stood on end. The mouse stood up on two feet like a prairie dog. "I am most certainly not! The rat is a completely different genus! I'm not part of Rattus! Mus musculus is what I am! I'm of healthy weight, sleek fur, quite clean, pleasing fur coloration, male and oh-hold on."
Ianto raised an eyebrow as the Doctor's thin tail curled up in the air and the Doctor twisted his head around. The mouse/Doctor made a tiny and very mouse-like squeak, tail shooting up like an antenna and whiskers bristling straight.
"I can't believe it! She did it to me again!" The mouse chattered in a rapid-fire of squeaks as it waved its front paws in the air as if it was berating something.
"Uh…Doctor?"
A mouse sighing was just as strange to behold. It looked like a ball of lint that just shrank.
"Oh, never mind. Yes, nothing's changed despite this. Once Martha's with you, I need you three and Martha to go get Jack-"
Ianto leaned forward. "Wait. Have you seen him? Is he all right?"
The whiskers sagged to the ground now.
"Doctor?" Ianto bit his lower lip. "Is Jack okay?"
"No," the Doctor sighed. "Not really. But he is where Saxon can't hurt him now."
"I…I don't understand."
"I sent Jack deep within his own mind."
Ianto screwed up his face. "Pardon? He's asleep?"
The mouse shook its head.
"Is it like before? A mental block?"
"Not really." The mouse looked ridiculous when it folded its short, fat front legs across its chest in a gesture of deep thought. "A…how would you call it? Ah yes…coma is what I think this century calls it."
"A coma?"
"Oh, no, no, no, not really, but sort of. Not quite. Similar. Close."
Ianto thought for sure his chest was going to burst. "So Jack's aware of his surroundings?"
"Not really."
"Can he move?"
"Not at the moment. Not on his own, no."
"Can he talk to us?"
"Hmm, doubtful."
Ianto glared at the mouse. "That fits within the parameters of a coma, sir." He wondered how bad it would be really to indulge in one good stomp. Mental projection, right?
The mouse's whiskers whipped back up and brown eyes squinted at Ianto as if it had read Ianto's mind. Ianto swallowed and wiggled back another inch away from it.
"Look, he's…he's in a sort of trance. In his state, Saxon can't do anything to him at this point."
Ianto averted his gaze. "He still can…physically."
"He's left Jack alone, Ianto Jones."
Ianto couldn't look at the mouse. He blinked until his vision cleared before he faced forward.
Whiskers drooped again. The mouse's chin nearly touched the ground.
"I've done all I can."
Ianto took a deep breath. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply…" Ianto dropped his head. "Jack was here before. He told me you tried to get him off the ship. Is that why Saxon…"
"The Master is a bit miffed at me. That was part of the reason, yes. I thought if I adopted a more conciliatory tone with Lucy Saxon, I could get her to help us." The mouse skipped closer. It craned its neck to look up at Ianto with intense warm eyes.
"Saxon's wife?" Brow furrowing, Ianto folded his arms. "You choose the strangest allies, sir."
"Yes, well, I had to try." The mouse sat down into a puff of fur. The ears pulled back. "Saxon and his wife are far too gone. They've dissevered themselves from logic and reason. The vortex has been feeding on the dark spots in their minds. The Master's blinded by his own narcissism that what he's doing is right. Madness. Absolute pure madness." Fur ruffled as the mouse shivered.
Ianto couldn't find an ounce of sympathy for the pair and the sympathetic tone the Doctor wore made his lips press into a thin line.
"You're still thinking about saving Saxon."
The mouse looked up unblinking. "I want to try."
"After all he's done, after everything he has put Jack through-"
"I said I wanted to try, Ianto Jones." The high-pitched quality vanished and it felt like the Doctor's voice echoed everywhere. "Try. If all else fails…I don't give second chances."
Ianto gulped and nodded wordlessly.
Tiny paws paced silently on the concrete floor as the mouse walked around in a circle before it stopped.
Ianto cleared his throat carefully.
"Doctor?"
The mouse stopped and stared at Ianto with an unnerving bright-eyed intensity.
"Before…we…you suggested that Jack's timeline had been tampered with. Changed, you mean?"
The tiny nod made his insides knot.
"Do you think…" Ianto found it hard to speak. "Do you think Jack was never suppose to be here… with m-us?"
The eyes were unusually dark and warm. The mouse lightly trotted closer to him.
"I'm sorry, but I just don't know. I would…usually, but the Master's corrupted the timeline so much, everything's clouded…I…I just don't know."
"Oh." Ianto looked down at the frayed hem of his jeans. Gwen had patched up the knees as the material wore thin but it was getting clear the denim was barely staying together. He couldn't bring himself to bin it though.
The mouse exhaled low. It sounded sad. The thin tail wound around its body.
"I've found in all my years that the universe, in all its intricacies and follies, has a brilliant way of sorting out its timelines and conclusions."
Ianto frowned at the Doctor.
Tiny paws rubbed at its soft face before the mouse looked up and clarified.
"Things have a way of working themselves out."
Ianto gave the Doctor a wan smile and nodded. "Are you going to try and get Jack out again?" Ianto asked after a moment's hesitation. He lowered his eyes when the small furry head shook a negative. "Oh."
"Lucy Saxon will not listen to me any more. We're nearly there though. With Martha here and the rockets near completion, our deadline is down to hours now instead of days or weeks."
Ianto could only nod again. He could hear the pounding in his ears. Ianto rubbed his palms on his trousers.
"So we sneak into the Valiant, find Jack and…" Ianto bit his lower lip. "We were planning to destroy the satellites then kill…" He clamped his mouth shut.
The mouse's eyes were almost black. "Leave Saxon and the Archangel network to me."
Ianto stared. "Not trying to be rude, sir, but you're nine hundred years old. You can't expect-"
"Leave Saxon to me."
The tone was once again pure Time Lord and its sonorous tone reverberated inside Ianto's head. Ianto's mouth was partially opened as he stared at eyes that were as dark and endless as the dying Utopian night sky.
"What…what about the satellites?"
"Your Toshiko Sato will be handling that."
Tosh? A chill danced up his arms. "How?"
"I can not say."
"And what about you?"
"Jack will see to me."
"How? You said he was in a coma."
"That's why I need you up there with Martha. Find Jack. Find Toshiko Sato. I'll be all right."
There were so many questions Ianto wanted to ask. He opened his mouth to ask when the mouse gave a full body shiver.
"Doctor?"
The mouse's fur seemed to gray in front of him.
"The TARDIS can't keep this up. Time, like me, is currently short. No more questions. I need you to pay very close attention, Ianto Jones. Everyone on the Valiant has a part. When the time comes, I need you to get Jack. He'll know what to do next."
Ianto met the tiny face's solemn gaze. He nodded then he paused.
"How will I know when the time comes?"
The mouse merely stared.
Ianto rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. I'll know."
Little paws clapped and the urge to flick at it made Ianto's fingers twitch.
"Now, you still have his wrist strap, yes? Good, that's good. Now remember these instructions and memorize the coordinates. Pay attention now…"
Ianto wasn't sure how long it took. The Doctor made him recite the directions over and over again and he was still repeating them when he woke up an indefinable time later and found his head pillowed by his bent right arm by the telegraph. Owen sat across from him cross legged on the floor with the kerosene lamp in-between them, wearing a scowl on his face.
Ianto gazed up at him with bleary eyes. "Oh," he mumbled and sat up. He checked the floor. No mouse. No Jack either.
"I'm calling you narcolepsy boy from now on," Owen declared. He didn't move from his seated position. He narrowed his eyes, tracking Ianto as he sat up. "You're lucky you didn't hit your head."
Ianto ignored him. As soon as he sighted the ledger pad he scribbled the telegrams on, Ianto tore a clean page out of it and frantically wrote down everything he could remember. Done, Ianto squinted myopically at his handwriting and read it in a mumble to test how it sounded in his ear. Satisfied, Ianto thrust it at Owen's face.
"I don't want no stinking love letter from you," Owen griped but he took it anyway. He held the paper to his nose. His eyes widened. Owen lowered the paper and stared at Ianto.
"Jack?"
He wished. Ianto shook his head. "The Doctor actually."
"The Doctor? What are you? A two legged IM? Should I call you Ping boy instead?"
Ianto glared at him. "It's difficult to explain."
Owen held up a hand. "Then I don't want to hear it." He looked at the paper in his hand again. "So…h-he's all right then? Nine hundred years old, short as a gnome and he can still-"
"Yeah," Ianto murmured. He spied Owen's shoulders relaxing.
"Well…fuck," Owen breathed. He unfolded his legs and stood up. There was a smirk on his face when he met Ianto's eyes. "Better hold on to this, narco boy."
Ianto scowled but took care not to tear the paper. "I think I liked Jonesy better, Harper."
"Tough," was Owen's reply. He still appeared in a bit of shock. Owen rubbed the back of his neck.
"This is good." Owen phrased it almost as if he was afraid to make it a question.
Ianto just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Owen folded his arms together. He pursed his mouth in thought.
"This is good," Owen repeated. It looked like he was testing how it sounded.
"I think Gwen would want to know," Ianto suggested, his own mouth curving when Owen's mirrored in response, "this isn't over yet."
"In fact, I think we're just getting started."
Valiant
"I'm gonna kill him."
Toshiko tore her eyes away from the dark monitor that hung from the ceiling outside their cells. It was pointless to stare at it. Nothing more would be broadcast. She should be grateful for that. Toshiko flicked away the stubborn moisture out of the corners of her eyes.
"If I have to wait a hundred years, I'm going to kill the Master."
Toshiko drew closer to the fence that stood between her and the Jones family. She winced as she watched Clive bandage Francine's ankle with fresh gauze.
"One day he'll let his guard down." Francine hissed and her foot jerked in Clive's careful grasp. Clive rubbed his palm on the heel of her foot in apology. "One day," Francine swore. Tosh wasn't sure if her voice was rough because of the pain or something else. Morbidly, Toshiko hoped it was the pain.
"And I'll be there." Francine bunched a fist and pressed it to her chest.
Toshiko turned around to sit against the fence. She blinked rapidly at the empty screen.
"No," Clive spoke up, "that's my job." He got up and sat down heavily next to Francine, behind Toshiko. "I swear to you. I'll shoot that man stone dead."
Toshiko smiled to herself when she heard Clive give Francine a kiss. Francine sighed deeply and huddled against Clive.
"I'll get him," Tish suddenly said after being silent for so long. The bed she sat on creaked. Her voice was still wispy with shock. "Even if it kills me."
"Don't say that," Toshiko murmured. She closed her eyes. It was strange, but hearing Tish made her feel so old." You don't mean that."
The fence vibrated when Tish leaned against it next to Francine, back to back with Toshiko. She sniffed.
"I mean it," Tish declared. Another sniff. "That man made us stand on deck and watch Japan burn. Millions of peo-"
"Tish!" Francine hissed.
There was a stunned silence before Tish gasped.
"Oh God, I-I'm sorry! I-"
"It's all right," Toshiko interrupted, her voice hoarse. It wasn't all right. Not really.
The fence gave again when Tish slumped back against it.
Toshiko felt a finger poke through the fence to gingerly stroke her right shoulder.
"I'm fine, Francine," Toshiko murmured and Francine scoffed.
"Child, none of us have been fine all these months…" Francine paused. "How long has it been now?"
"A year," Toshiko whispered, her eyes filling. She stared at the tick marks on the wall she had made with the tines of her fork when the guards brought in their meals. She wondered if the others on Earth did that, if they had meals everyday to mark time. She knew Jack didn't have that.
"God's strength," Clive swore.
Toshiko stared hard at the floor and waited for the blurring to go away.
"The Doctor…" Francine began in a whisper. Toshiko checked the doors but the guard wasn't watching them.
"It's done. I was to get that thing to Jack and go to the computer room, get into the Archangel controls again," Toshiko hushed, her mouth pressed to the fence. "This changes nothing." At Francine's disbelieving look, Toshiko amended, "Okay, maybe a little, but Jack-"
"Love, from what I saw of Jack Harkness," Francine interrupted, her eyes crinkled at her through the fence, "I don't know what it'll do to give that to him. Maybe we should-"
Toshiko shook her head. Her stomach churned at what Francine had described before. God, Jack. "It's good for only one shot. Just one. So it needs to count. And the Doctor thinks it will count…if I give it to Jack. Remember his messages? The Doctor said no matter what happens; make sure it gets to Jack. He'll know what to do."
Francine didn't agree or refute her. Her dark eyes shone through the fence at Toshiko, assessing, deciding. After a moment, Francine nodded even when it looked like she didn't want to.
"All right," Francine murmured, "we'll try it his way but if it doesn't work…I'm not standing by and letting Saxon put his filthy hands on my Martha."
"He won't get that chance, I promise you," Clive uttered darkly.
Toshiko observed Francine's determination that set her mouth into a hard thin line. She nodded.
"I swear to you, he's dead," Tish muttered to her mother in half-hearted defiance.
Francine merely exhaled and guided her daughter's head into her lap. Weary, worn, Francine didn't argue and stroked her daughter's hair.
"He'll pay, mum. He has to." Tish sniffled and press her wet face to Francine's thigh.
Toshiko stared at the dark monitor outside her cell and thought about the Doctor, her friends and what Francine told her about Jack. Toshiko thought about the device finished and hidden in the lavatories across from the server room.
"Don't worry," Toshiko said, more to herself. Just one more thing to do. One more.
"He will pay."
Act VI
Additional Notes: Many thanks to soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.