Fic: Fairies, Hobgoblins and Police - Oh my!
Title: Fairies, Hobgoblins and Police - Oh my!
Series: Torchwood
Characters: Andy Davidson
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Adrift (TW 2.11)
Beta: Going Commando, mostly…
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or the characters therein, they belong to the BBC and RTD. Any original storylines, characters and places are my property.
Summary: PC Andy Davidson finds out there is more to life on Earth than what can be seen by the human eye.
Author’s Notes: Inspired by pinkfairy727, and written for her birthday. It also gives me a good excuse to play with and explore PC Andy.
Fairies, Hobgoblins and Police - Oh my!
All of Andy’s muscles ached, and this was before he even found the energy to open his eyes. He wondered if he had gone on a bender the night before - his mind was so fuzzy he couldn’t even remember what he had done. Opening his mouth in a big yawn, he finally looked through barely open eyelids, scrunching them quickly shut again.
“What the- bloody hell, why am I on the floor?”
His throat didn’t feel like he had been drinking. Andy pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around the room, trying to see if anything was out of order. Nothing seemed odd in his bedroom, except that he somehow decided to spend the night on the floor instead of in his bed, which he was next to.
Heaving himself up and staggering to his feet, Andy lurched forward, grabbing a hold of the dresser. “If I could bloody well make it in here, why didn’t I make it to the bed.”
“I’m sorry Sir, but that’s my fault,” a lyrical, feminine voice said from behind him.
Andy spun on his heels, still gripping the edge of the dresser. He squinted against the bright sunlight, cursing himself for keeping the window shades open. A woman with long flowing brunette hair stepped forward, dimming the light in his vision. She wore a simple shift of off black and held out a hand towards his face. Andy lurched backwards, arcing his back over the dresser.
“Who the hell are you?”
The woman tilted her head to the left, looking right into his eyes. It was then that he noticed how grey and almost translucent they were. “You may call me Iorwen. Others have.” She turned, a wan smile on her face and the sunlight seemed to reflect off her eyes, off her entire being.
“Did I meet you at a pub?”
“No,” she replied, her voice delicate. “You probably wish you had.” She sat down on the bed, not even making a ripple in the sheets. “You saved them, so it was only right that I repaid you.” Her head bowed as she didn’t even look at him.
Andy pried himself away from the dresser and stumbled across the room, collapsing onto the other side of the bed. He stared, unblinking, at the ceiling, counting the cracks that jagged along the plaster. Iorwen’s hand touched his, but he didn’t pull away. As her hand closed over his, all the pains in his body seeped away as a warmth spread from her across his body. Finally pulling his hand away, Andy held it above his head and his mouth fell open as a pink, sparkling glow seemed to radiate from his skin.
“What did you do to me?”
“It’ll go away.”
“How do you know that?”
“Once you finish healing. Once your body and spirit are whole again, it will go away.”
“Why are my body and spirit not whole?” Andy croaked out.
“I should be going,” Iorwen said as she rose from the bed, seeming to glide across the room to the door. “You are a very special person Andy Davidson, never forget that.”
“No, no, no,” Andy stuttered, scrambling to his feet. He practically leapt over the corner of bed, cracking his knee against the frame, but he felt no pain. “You can’t leave before you tell me what happened. I’m tired of being in the dark.” He slammed the door shut, pushing Iorwen out of the way. “Everybody tries to protect me, but I’m a big boy. First Gwen, then bloody Torchwood, and now you.”
Her eyes glimmered to pure silver light for a moment as she stepped back, lowering her hands to her side. “You would be best to stay away from Torchwood.”
“Too late for that. Tell me.”
“It would be better if I did-”
Andy grasped her around the shoulders, amazed at how soft Iorwen was. Her skin felt like the worn blanket he kept as a child. She didn’t fight with him, but instead the air shimmered and his hands fell limp as Iorwen was next to him.
“Shit! What are you?”
“You cannot keep me here Andy. It will end badly for you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“Please,” he said, turning to her, pleading with his eyes. “Someone needs to tell me the truth for once.”
Iorwen seemed to be thinking it over and finally sat down on the bed. She held out a slender hand. As he took it, she pulled him down next to her, never letting go of his hand. Turning to him, she gently ran a finger along his chin.
“You are a good man Andy, with a heart that is loving and a child-like belief in the best in people. Never lose that, ever. Follow your convictions, even if they might seem wrong at the time. You will be tested in the coming months, partly because I intervened on your behalf.”
“What happened.”
“Think,” she said as her hand swiped across his eyes and lingered over his head.
Andy gasped as pain shot through his skull, feeling like the world was oozing out his ears. Iorwen held him close as his body shuddered as the night before entered his mind. All he saw were glimpses as the memories rushed back in a fevered pictures.
He had left work and headed down to Verity for old times’ sake. Before he got there he heard a keening from the alleyway. No one else seemed to hear it, but Andy rushed back there. There a group of children that looked similar to Iorwen were being attacked by vile creatures. The creatures rushed at him, fangs glistening in the moonlight, green and brown mottled skin dark from the shadows. They jerked towards him on clawed feet, nails tearing at his body. One pushed him down, sitting on his chest, sucking the life from him. He pushed it away and rolled towards the children. Finding strength he covered the children as the monsters drained him. They are ours. They are our chosen ones. It didn’t feel right. He protected those children until he died.
He had died. No one else came to help. Was he still dead?
“No, you are very much alive now, and that is my fault,” Iorwen said as she stroked his back.
“How?”
“I felt it only fair for what you did?”
“What did I do?”
“You saved the children from those- I should not say their true names, lest they come again, but they have made people mistake them for fairies. They are the evil charlatans.”
“What do they do?”
“Too much. But they steal human children to add to their numbers. They pick their chosen ones - the poor children - and remake them in their image.” Iorwen smoothed his hair. “Have you ever noticed a sudden storm in just one area for no reason at all?”
“Yes.”
“Have chills ever overtaken you and fear clutch at you then?”
“Yes.”
“That is when those creatures are about, leaving a trail of twigs, leaves and dead flowers in their wake.”
“But they killed me.”
“They will do that. Do you remember being suffocated?”
Andy pulled away from her shoulder and shook his head yes. He watched as she turned her hand over and a puddle of rose petals were bunched up in her palm. Taking her other hand away from him, she held the petals in her cupped hands, blew gently on them and opened her hands again to reveal a vibrant, whole, red rose.
“What did you do?”
“I brought it back to life, like I did you.”
Andy just stared at Iorwen as she placed the rosebud on his pillow, leaning across him. He closed his eyes and felt warm and at peace. She stood up and helped him lay back on the bed.
“Those savages were wrong and set their sights on children of the Fae. You saved those children, so I broke the laws of nature and saved you. I am one of the Fata.”
“Fata?” Andy asked as a tiredness crept over him.
“Old and wise, but not often permitted to interfere.” She brushed her hand across his face and he tried to stifle a yawn. “The Greeks called us The Fates. You stumbled into a war that humans should never know about. Torchwood did, and now you. For that I am sorry.” He could feel her lips brush against his cheek. “Sleep Andrew, be at peace for a while.”
Andy didn’t know how long he had slept, but he never felt better. Torchwood would be Torchwood, and he had a job to do. He wasn’t even upset at Gwen for putting him through hell on the Jonah Bevin case, he knew she had her reasons. The only thing that bothered him was how a single, perfect, red rose had come to be on his pillow.
Series: Torchwood
Characters: Andy Davidson
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Adrift (TW 2.11)
Beta: Going Commando, mostly…
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or the characters therein, they belong to the BBC and RTD. Any original storylines, characters and places are my property.
Summary: PC Andy Davidson finds out there is more to life on Earth than what can be seen by the human eye.
Author’s Notes: Inspired by pinkfairy727, and written for her birthday. It also gives me a good excuse to play with and explore PC Andy.
Fairies, Hobgoblins and Police - Oh my!
All of Andy’s muscles ached, and this was before he even found the energy to open his eyes. He wondered if he had gone on a bender the night before - his mind was so fuzzy he couldn’t even remember what he had done. Opening his mouth in a big yawn, he finally looked through barely open eyelids, scrunching them quickly shut again.
“What the- bloody hell, why am I on the floor?”
His throat didn’t feel like he had been drinking. Andy pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around the room, trying to see if anything was out of order. Nothing seemed odd in his bedroom, except that he somehow decided to spend the night on the floor instead of in his bed, which he was next to.
Heaving himself up and staggering to his feet, Andy lurched forward, grabbing a hold of the dresser. “If I could bloody well make it in here, why didn’t I make it to the bed.”
“I’m sorry Sir, but that’s my fault,” a lyrical, feminine voice said from behind him.
Andy spun on his heels, still gripping the edge of the dresser. He squinted against the bright sunlight, cursing himself for keeping the window shades open. A woman with long flowing brunette hair stepped forward, dimming the light in his vision. She wore a simple shift of off black and held out a hand towards his face. Andy lurched backwards, arcing his back over the dresser.
“Who the hell are you?”
The woman tilted her head to the left, looking right into his eyes. It was then that he noticed how grey and almost translucent they were. “You may call me Iorwen. Others have.” She turned, a wan smile on her face and the sunlight seemed to reflect off her eyes, off her entire being.
“Did I meet you at a pub?”
“No,” she replied, her voice delicate. “You probably wish you had.” She sat down on the bed, not even making a ripple in the sheets. “You saved them, so it was only right that I repaid you.” Her head bowed as she didn’t even look at him.
Andy pried himself away from the dresser and stumbled across the room, collapsing onto the other side of the bed. He stared, unblinking, at the ceiling, counting the cracks that jagged along the plaster. Iorwen’s hand touched his, but he didn’t pull away. As her hand closed over his, all the pains in his body seeped away as a warmth spread from her across his body. Finally pulling his hand away, Andy held it above his head and his mouth fell open as a pink, sparkling glow seemed to radiate from his skin.
“What did you do to me?”
“It’ll go away.”
“How do you know that?”
“Once you finish healing. Once your body and spirit are whole again, it will go away.”
“Why are my body and spirit not whole?” Andy croaked out.
“I should be going,” Iorwen said as she rose from the bed, seeming to glide across the room to the door. “You are a very special person Andy Davidson, never forget that.”
“No, no, no,” Andy stuttered, scrambling to his feet. He practically leapt over the corner of bed, cracking his knee against the frame, but he felt no pain. “You can’t leave before you tell me what happened. I’m tired of being in the dark.” He slammed the door shut, pushing Iorwen out of the way. “Everybody tries to protect me, but I’m a big boy. First Gwen, then bloody Torchwood, and now you.”
Her eyes glimmered to pure silver light for a moment as she stepped back, lowering her hands to her side. “You would be best to stay away from Torchwood.”
“Too late for that. Tell me.”
“It would be better if I did-”
Andy grasped her around the shoulders, amazed at how soft Iorwen was. Her skin felt like the worn blanket he kept as a child. She didn’t fight with him, but instead the air shimmered and his hands fell limp as Iorwen was next to him.
“Shit! What are you?”
“You cannot keep me here Andy. It will end badly for you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“Please,” he said, turning to her, pleading with his eyes. “Someone needs to tell me the truth for once.”
Iorwen seemed to be thinking it over and finally sat down on the bed. She held out a slender hand. As he took it, she pulled him down next to her, never letting go of his hand. Turning to him, she gently ran a finger along his chin.
“You are a good man Andy, with a heart that is loving and a child-like belief in the best in people. Never lose that, ever. Follow your convictions, even if they might seem wrong at the time. You will be tested in the coming months, partly because I intervened on your behalf.”
“What happened.”
“Think,” she said as her hand swiped across his eyes and lingered over his head.
Andy gasped as pain shot through his skull, feeling like the world was oozing out his ears. Iorwen held him close as his body shuddered as the night before entered his mind. All he saw were glimpses as the memories rushed back in a fevered pictures.
He had left work and headed down to Verity for old times’ sake. Before he got there he heard a keening from the alleyway. No one else seemed to hear it, but Andy rushed back there. There a group of children that looked similar to Iorwen were being attacked by vile creatures. The creatures rushed at him, fangs glistening in the moonlight, green and brown mottled skin dark from the shadows. They jerked towards him on clawed feet, nails tearing at his body. One pushed him down, sitting on his chest, sucking the life from him. He pushed it away and rolled towards the children. Finding strength he covered the children as the monsters drained him. They are ours. They are our chosen ones. It didn’t feel right. He protected those children until he died.
He had died. No one else came to help. Was he still dead?
“No, you are very much alive now, and that is my fault,” Iorwen said as she stroked his back.
“How?”
“I felt it only fair for what you did?”
“What did I do?”
“You saved the children from those- I should not say their true names, lest they come again, but they have made people mistake them for fairies. They are the evil charlatans.”
“What do they do?”
“Too much. But they steal human children to add to their numbers. They pick their chosen ones - the poor children - and remake them in their image.” Iorwen smoothed his hair. “Have you ever noticed a sudden storm in just one area for no reason at all?”
“Yes.”
“Have chills ever overtaken you and fear clutch at you then?”
“Yes.”
“That is when those creatures are about, leaving a trail of twigs, leaves and dead flowers in their wake.”
“But they killed me.”
“They will do that. Do you remember being suffocated?”
Andy pulled away from her shoulder and shook his head yes. He watched as she turned her hand over and a puddle of rose petals were bunched up in her palm. Taking her other hand away from him, she held the petals in her cupped hands, blew gently on them and opened her hands again to reveal a vibrant, whole, red rose.
“What did you do?”
“I brought it back to life, like I did you.”
Andy just stared at Iorwen as she placed the rosebud on his pillow, leaning across him. He closed his eyes and felt warm and at peace. She stood up and helped him lay back on the bed.
“Those savages were wrong and set their sights on children of the Fae. You saved those children, so I broke the laws of nature and saved you. I am one of the Fata.”
“Fata?” Andy asked as a tiredness crept over him.
“Old and wise, but not often permitted to interfere.” She brushed her hand across his face and he tried to stifle a yawn. “The Greeks called us The Fates. You stumbled into a war that humans should never know about. Torchwood did, and now you. For that I am sorry.” He could feel her lips brush against his cheek. “Sleep Andrew, be at peace for a while.”
Andy didn’t know how long he had slept, but he never felt better. Torchwood would be Torchwood, and he had a job to do. He wasn’t even upset at Gwen for putting him through hell on the Jonah Bevin case, he knew she had her reasons. The only thing that bothered him was how a single, perfect, red rose had come to be on his pillow.