Disambiguation: In These Stones (Part 6/7)
Title: Disambiguation: In These Stones (Part 6/7)
Rating: Series ranges from PG to light NC-17. This entry's in the PG range.
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto and Ianto/Owen. Occasional mention and hints of other pairings.
Notes/Summary: Disambiguation is an AU that follows the exploits of a parallel Torchwood where the events of "End of Days" didn't go as smoothly as they do in canon. Features Andy Davidson as a member of the team. Picks up where the original Disambiguation one-off story leaves off, so you'll probably want to give it a look. Betaed by riftugee, whose advice I took much more often than not, and without whom this piece wouldn't be nearly as shiny as it is now.
Part Six, in which the team earn their hazard pay, and listen to the voices in their heads.
Ianto Jones was not a particularly religious man. It wasn’t for lack of exposure - he’d had a Welsh Presbyterian aunt who’d taken him to Chapel from time to time and gave him Bibles as milestone gifts - but something about it never really took. He was, however, literate. He was a reader, and he liked old books, and he’d learned in school that in order to really understand and enjoy things like Shakespeare and John Donne, he had to know his Bible.
And so, with a fair amount of gratitude to his dead Presbyterian aunt and his literature teachers, he repeated the fourth and fifth verses of the 23rd Psalm to himself, using it as a focus as he walked through the darkened, locked-down Hub.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me…
He didn’t recognize most of the dead who wandered about, oblivious to his presence. He kept his arms crossed over his chest. This was another focus - a physical reminder to draw himself in - as well as a practical gesture that kept him from inadvertently touching anything.
…thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over…
He clutched the alien lockpick in his right hand, and hoped he’d be able to maintain his concentration when he had to deploy it to get into the archives. Once he had the amplifier, he could use it to pinpoint Jack and Tosh’s location. That is, if they were still alive.
# # #
Jack lay gasping on the vault floor. He could feel a couple of broken ribs grinding as he tried to breathe. In spite of this, he forced another laugh from his lips. The air around him went electric again, and Andy hurled him against the wall. He slid down and landed with a crash.
This was going to be a very long night.
Your team has deserted you, Jack Harkness, the Meirwon taunted. The voice was a violation, forcing its way into every part of Jack’s skull.
“Yeah,” Jack grinned through bloodied lips. “It’s so hard to find good help these days, huh?”
Andy sent him crashing shoulder first into another wall. He felt bone and cartilage crunch, then landed in a heap face down on the concrete. He pushed up into a kneeling position again, but was knocked skidding across the room as he tried to stand.
Sooner or later, Jack Harkness, you will submit to us. Give us the codes to your safe. Show us how to use your... the Meirwon paused, and Andy made a pained noise in his throat. Rift manipulator?
Jack spat a mouthful of red, stringy saliva onto the floor. “Why don’t you just take them? What was it you said before? That we’d join you if we died? Why not just kill me and get it over with?”
Were it that simple, Jack Harkness, we would never have taken this pitiful shell. Do you think it amuses us to be this one when there are others more powerful nearby? Do you think we find it satisfying not to contain the knowledge we crave?
Andy raised his hand and slammed Jack against the ceiling, holding him there with crushing force.
No, Jack Harkness. Would that we could take you. So much knowledge. So much power. And yet even in your dreams you fought and refused us. A million billion times and you denied us entry. You are beyond life and death. You endure.
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Jack wheezed.
Andy smashed him into the ground.
# # #
“Come on,” Ianto whispered under his breath at the alien lockpick. He’d made it through the main Hub area and down into the deeper corridors now. The zombies were fewer and farther between, but he was still reluctant to drop his shielding even a little for fear that something would detect him. He was nearly to the archives. The last thing he wanted was to be torn limb from limb this close to his goal.
The archives door popped open and he breathed a sigh of relief. He slipped in and pressed the device against the other side until its lights flashed green and the bolt clicked shut again. He straightened his suit and took a breath, composing himself and crossing his hands over his chest again.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no…
Heavy footsteps crashed unevenly somewhere in the blackness of the corridor. There was a grinding of metal on metal where the parts refused to synchronize.
…I will fear no evil…
The sound grew closer, and he could feel the vibrations in the concrete as the unsteady bashing rhythm of heavy steel boots rattled the floor.
…no evil, no evil, no evil…
Ianto squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his back as hard as he could against the wall. Even here in the near pitch black, he refused to see the ruin of her face, or her empty skull. He willed himself far into his own mind as Lisa’s metallic carcass staggered past. He listened to her turn down another corridor, moving away from the archives and waited for the vibrations to fade into the distance before he stepped away from the wall, gasping for breath he hadn’t realized he’d held.
…for thou art with me…
# # #
Jack sucked in a burning, jagged breath. His skull felt like it had just been hammered flat, which probably wasn’t too far from the truth. He was well beyond trying to stand. It was an act of will to even consider hands and knees.
He tried it anyway.
When he wasn’t immediately crushed into oblivion, he glanced up to see Andy wearing a manic grin and pacing back and forth excitedly across the vault area.
“You know what makes me happy?” Jack groaned. “Seeing other people happy.”
Andy toppled him with an absent sweep of the hand. Be silent. We can taste something new to play with. A swallow, come to save his prince. How delicious.
Jack’s eyes grew wide. “Ianto? Oh shit, Ianto, no…” He made a wild effort to scramble to his feet.
Andy’s eyes shimmered as he lifted Jack Harkness into the air one final time. He made a crushing motion with his fingers, and Jack could feel his throat tighten. He clawed helplessly at the empty air as the world went black.
# # #
Section 16-B, Shelf 7, Box 9A, Ianto thought as he took the dusty package down. The labels weren’t in a hand that he recognized, and the paper the box was clad in had ceased being standard decades ago. He only knew of the object because of a report Jack had asked him to compile after an incident with Toshiko and a necklace that let the wearer hear other people's thoughts. Jack had wanted a comprehensive list of every piece of psychic hardware Torchwood Three had in their possession. There hadn’t been much, but of the handful of devices scavenged in Cardiff, this was the jewel of the collection.
He tore the paper away and slid open the top of the box. Inside, he found an irregularly shaped smoosh of silver bands that met in a clump around clear blue sphere about the size of a walnut. Ianto lifted it gingerly out of the box to admire it.
An actual Arilat psychic amplifier, presumably in working condition.
Not even Yvonne had been able to boast something this valuable, and Ianto suspected it was the sort of thing Jack would have preferred to lock in his personal safe if he’d thought there was any chance of anyone going into the archives to retrieve it. Anyone using it could easily wreak a surprising amount of havoc. That is, if he didn’t burn out his own mind with the thing first.
Ianto had never been so grateful for Jack’s willingness to lean toward security through obscurity in certain instances.
He slipped his hand into the bangles. It felt warm already, and the metal softened against his skin, adjusting to his contours. He had to prop himself up against the door as he felt the artifact activate, broadening his perceptions with what felt like a loud bang. For a moment, he was everywhere and everything at once, shining bright and spinning around the sun.
Ianto! It was Jack’s voice.
He zeroed in on it with surprising ease -- just find the right light and zoom through the sea to hold it -- and was nearly shattered by a wave of agony. Jack? Jack, what’s happening?
Stay away! Get out! He knows you’re here! He -
The connection went dead. The light blinked out, and Ianto was hit by a terrible wave of vertigo.
Jack? Jack, are you there? Jack?!
Hello, swallow. Andy’s voice lashed across Ianto’s mind, leaving angry red weals across his psyche. Ianto stumbled and fell to his knees as he felt the bile rising in his throat. The Meirwon was the opposite of light. It was filth and rot and it was all around him.
He choked down his own disgust, gritting his teeth and trying desperately to rebuild his own shielding. What have you done to Jack?
Come and see. Come and see. Let us taste you, little bird. The voice sucked at his mind, as if it was rolling him around in its mouth. Ianto felt the hot, stinking breath of Brynblaidd’s cannibals on his face, the knife on his throat…
Ianto slammed his shields back up into place with an enraged howl, crossing his forearms in front of his face.
This ended now.
# # #
Owen Harper trod across the stones of Roald Dahl Plass. He’d come up with a circuit, walking down to the Quay to Ianto’s tourist office door, around to the carpark and the garage entry, then back up to the invisible lift. He’d walked it six or seven times now, and he was getting sick of lugging Ianto’s bloody man purse around while everyone else got to stop the Apocalypse. He stormed along his route, stiff with chill and warmed only by his own anger. Where did that little twat Andy get off trying to take over the world, anyway?
At least Suzie had been scary enough on her own to start with.
He kicked himself for letting Ianto go in by himself. The man wasn’t James Bond. He was just some bloke in a suit with too much fucking responsibility and a really nice coffee maker. Owen imagined the Welshman being surprised and overtaken by the walking dead, being torn apart by Suzie and Gwen. It made his stomach clench.
“Fuck this last line of defense shit,” he grumbled under his breath. He didn’t want to call Glasgow. Doctor Owen Harper: useless bloody coward. That’s not exactly the way he wanted to introduce himself.
His mobile jangled in his pocket and he pulled it out. He was so relieved to see Toshiko’s number come up in the display that he nearly dropped his phone answering.
“Tosh? Where are you?”
“Locked in a wiring closet,” she replied. “You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to build a relay. Where are you?”
“Out on the Plass waiting for Ianto.”
“Where’s Ianto?” Tosh asked sharply.
“Going after Andy,” Owen sighed, looking up at the water tower.
“What?!” Tosh screeched in his ear. “Owen, are you crazy? Andy’s completely possessed! He’ll take Ianto apart!”
I heard that, Ianto’s voice echoed warmly in both their skulls. He felt like warm drinks and filing cabinets, and Owen found himself having to fight down a sudden urge to alphabetize. And I’m fine.
“What the --?” Owen and Tosh asked simultaneously.
Tosh, stay where you are. You'll be safe in that closet until Jack or I can retrieve you. Owen, stick with the plan. Do not come in here until one of us gives you the all-clear. Do you hear me?
“Fine. Fine,” Owen said aloud into his mobile. “Now get out of my head. It’s creepy.”
# # #
The Meirwon flexed their human host’s fingers and paced around the morgue. Their beacon - the human Jack Harkness - was broken at their feet. He’d been a fascinating toy while he’d lasted, but this Jones creature was even more intriguing. They hadn’t even heard it come in. And then, suddenly, there had been a bright flash of psychic life and they’d tasted him.
They couldn’t wait to crush, consume, take. This one would have the secrets they needed to access the Rift manipulator. With that, they could rend their way into the Other Place and free their lost brothers and sisters. It had been too long since they had devoured the dreams of the living, swallowing their lives whole. It was hard, keeping this one alive. They needed it to see, and to control the horde of clumsy hands they used to take possession of the area, but they loathed it. So weak. So afraid in its own little corner of its fragile, meat-filled skull.
The Jones thing made no attempt at concealing itself any longer. The Meirwon could taste it coming in spite of its psychic shell, and they trembled with anticipation of their kill. They stepped over the beacon’s corpse and out onto the walkway as the Jones creature approached.
“Under most circumstances,” the Jones thing began, speaking with its human mouth, “it’s customary to offer an alien intelligence such as yourself an opportunity to cease and desist, and to extend an offer to assist with an appropriate relocation scheme.”
How strange, they responded, studying the human. Do many agree to your terms?
The Jones thing shrugged. “The smart ones do.”
And the foolish ones? The Meirwon felt their psychic fangs and tendrils begin to spread and prepare to strike.
“Oh, they always come around in the end.” Ianto grinned as something tapped the Meirwon’s host body on the shoulder. It spun right and saw nothing. Surprised and angry, it spun left.
“Good night, Gracie,” Jack smirked, punching Andy square in the mouth. The Meirwon stumbled back, and straight into Ianto’s hand.
The hand wearing the psychic amplifier.
With a whipping motion, Ianto tore the Meirwon from Andy’s body, strangling it in an invisible fist. His silver eyes flashed and blazed as he strengthened his grip.
“Time to go home,” Ianto snarled, and plunged their minds into oblivion.
---
Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
---
Rating: Series ranges from PG to light NC-17. This entry's in the PG range.
Pairing(s): Jack/Ianto and Ianto/Owen. Occasional mention and hints of other pairings.
Notes/Summary: Disambiguation is an AU that follows the exploits of a parallel Torchwood where the events of "End of Days" didn't go as smoothly as they do in canon. Features Andy Davidson as a member of the team. Picks up where the original Disambiguation one-off story leaves off, so you'll probably want to give it a look. Betaed by riftugee, whose advice I took much more often than not, and without whom this piece wouldn't be nearly as shiny as it is now.
Part Six, in which the team earn their hazard pay, and listen to the voices in their heads.
Ianto Jones was not a particularly religious man. It wasn’t for lack of exposure - he’d had a Welsh Presbyterian aunt who’d taken him to Chapel from time to time and gave him Bibles as milestone gifts - but something about it never really took. He was, however, literate. He was a reader, and he liked old books, and he’d learned in school that in order to really understand and enjoy things like Shakespeare and John Donne, he had to know his Bible.
And so, with a fair amount of gratitude to his dead Presbyterian aunt and his literature teachers, he repeated the fourth and fifth verses of the 23rd Psalm to himself, using it as a focus as he walked through the darkened, locked-down Hub.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me…
He didn’t recognize most of the dead who wandered about, oblivious to his presence. He kept his arms crossed over his chest. This was another focus - a physical reminder to draw himself in - as well as a practical gesture that kept him from inadvertently touching anything.
…thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over…
He clutched the alien lockpick in his right hand, and hoped he’d be able to maintain his concentration when he had to deploy it to get into the archives. Once he had the amplifier, he could use it to pinpoint Jack and Tosh’s location. That is, if they were still alive.
# # #
Jack lay gasping on the vault floor. He could feel a couple of broken ribs grinding as he tried to breathe. In spite of this, he forced another laugh from his lips. The air around him went electric again, and Andy hurled him against the wall. He slid down and landed with a crash.
This was going to be a very long night.
Your team has deserted you, Jack Harkness, the Meirwon taunted. The voice was a violation, forcing its way into every part of Jack’s skull.
“Yeah,” Jack grinned through bloodied lips. “It’s so hard to find good help these days, huh?”
Andy sent him crashing shoulder first into another wall. He felt bone and cartilage crunch, then landed in a heap face down on the concrete. He pushed up into a kneeling position again, but was knocked skidding across the room as he tried to stand.
Sooner or later, Jack Harkness, you will submit to us. Give us the codes to your safe. Show us how to use your... the Meirwon paused, and Andy made a pained noise in his throat. Rift manipulator?
Jack spat a mouthful of red, stringy saliva onto the floor. “Why don’t you just take them? What was it you said before? That we’d join you if we died? Why not just kill me and get it over with?”
Were it that simple, Jack Harkness, we would never have taken this pitiful shell. Do you think it amuses us to be this one when there are others more powerful nearby? Do you think we find it satisfying not to contain the knowledge we crave?
Andy raised his hand and slammed Jack against the ceiling, holding him there with crushing force.
No, Jack Harkness. Would that we could take you. So much knowledge. So much power. And yet even in your dreams you fought and refused us. A million billion times and you denied us entry. You are beyond life and death. You endure.
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Jack wheezed.
Andy smashed him into the ground.
# # #
“Come on,” Ianto whispered under his breath at the alien lockpick. He’d made it through the main Hub area and down into the deeper corridors now. The zombies were fewer and farther between, but he was still reluctant to drop his shielding even a little for fear that something would detect him. He was nearly to the archives. The last thing he wanted was to be torn limb from limb this close to his goal.
The archives door popped open and he breathed a sigh of relief. He slipped in and pressed the device against the other side until its lights flashed green and the bolt clicked shut again. He straightened his suit and took a breath, composing himself and crossing his hands over his chest again.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no…
Heavy footsteps crashed unevenly somewhere in the blackness of the corridor. There was a grinding of metal on metal where the parts refused to synchronize.
…I will fear no evil…
The sound grew closer, and he could feel the vibrations in the concrete as the unsteady bashing rhythm of heavy steel boots rattled the floor.
…no evil, no evil, no evil…
Ianto squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his back as hard as he could against the wall. Even here in the near pitch black, he refused to see the ruin of her face, or her empty skull. He willed himself far into his own mind as Lisa’s metallic carcass staggered past. He listened to her turn down another corridor, moving away from the archives and waited for the vibrations to fade into the distance before he stepped away from the wall, gasping for breath he hadn’t realized he’d held.
…for thou art with me…
# # #
Jack sucked in a burning, jagged breath. His skull felt like it had just been hammered flat, which probably wasn’t too far from the truth. He was well beyond trying to stand. It was an act of will to even consider hands and knees.
He tried it anyway.
When he wasn’t immediately crushed into oblivion, he glanced up to see Andy wearing a manic grin and pacing back and forth excitedly across the vault area.
“You know what makes me happy?” Jack groaned. “Seeing other people happy.”
Andy toppled him with an absent sweep of the hand. Be silent. We can taste something new to play with. A swallow, come to save his prince. How delicious.
Jack’s eyes grew wide. “Ianto? Oh shit, Ianto, no…” He made a wild effort to scramble to his feet.
Andy’s eyes shimmered as he lifted Jack Harkness into the air one final time. He made a crushing motion with his fingers, and Jack could feel his throat tighten. He clawed helplessly at the empty air as the world went black.
# # #
Section 16-B, Shelf 7, Box 9A, Ianto thought as he took the dusty package down. The labels weren’t in a hand that he recognized, and the paper the box was clad in had ceased being standard decades ago. He only knew of the object because of a report Jack had asked him to compile after an incident with Toshiko and a necklace that let the wearer hear other people's thoughts. Jack had wanted a comprehensive list of every piece of psychic hardware Torchwood Three had in their possession. There hadn’t been much, but of the handful of devices scavenged in Cardiff, this was the jewel of the collection.
He tore the paper away and slid open the top of the box. Inside, he found an irregularly shaped smoosh of silver bands that met in a clump around clear blue sphere about the size of a walnut. Ianto lifted it gingerly out of the box to admire it.
An actual Arilat psychic amplifier, presumably in working condition.
Not even Yvonne had been able to boast something this valuable, and Ianto suspected it was the sort of thing Jack would have preferred to lock in his personal safe if he’d thought there was any chance of anyone going into the archives to retrieve it. Anyone using it could easily wreak a surprising amount of havoc. That is, if he didn’t burn out his own mind with the thing first.
Ianto had never been so grateful for Jack’s willingness to lean toward security through obscurity in certain instances.
He slipped his hand into the bangles. It felt warm already, and the metal softened against his skin, adjusting to his contours. He had to prop himself up against the door as he felt the artifact activate, broadening his perceptions with what felt like a loud bang. For a moment, he was everywhere and everything at once, shining bright and spinning around the sun.
Ianto! It was Jack’s voice.
He zeroed in on it with surprising ease -- just find the right light and zoom through the sea to hold it -- and was nearly shattered by a wave of agony. Jack? Jack, what’s happening?
Stay away! Get out! He knows you’re here! He -
The connection went dead. The light blinked out, and Ianto was hit by a terrible wave of vertigo.
Jack? Jack, are you there? Jack?!
Hello, swallow. Andy’s voice lashed across Ianto’s mind, leaving angry red weals across his psyche. Ianto stumbled and fell to his knees as he felt the bile rising in his throat. The Meirwon was the opposite of light. It was filth and rot and it was all around him.
He choked down his own disgust, gritting his teeth and trying desperately to rebuild his own shielding. What have you done to Jack?
Come and see. Come and see. Let us taste you, little bird. The voice sucked at his mind, as if it was rolling him around in its mouth. Ianto felt the hot, stinking breath of Brynblaidd’s cannibals on his face, the knife on his throat…
Ianto slammed his shields back up into place with an enraged howl, crossing his forearms in front of his face.
This ended now.
# # #
Owen Harper trod across the stones of Roald Dahl Plass. He’d come up with a circuit, walking down to the Quay to Ianto’s tourist office door, around to the carpark and the garage entry, then back up to the invisible lift. He’d walked it six or seven times now, and he was getting sick of lugging Ianto’s bloody man purse around while everyone else got to stop the Apocalypse. He stormed along his route, stiff with chill and warmed only by his own anger. Where did that little twat Andy get off trying to take over the world, anyway?
At least Suzie had been scary enough on her own to start with.
He kicked himself for letting Ianto go in by himself. The man wasn’t James Bond. He was just some bloke in a suit with too much fucking responsibility and a really nice coffee maker. Owen imagined the Welshman being surprised and overtaken by the walking dead, being torn apart by Suzie and Gwen. It made his stomach clench.
“Fuck this last line of defense shit,” he grumbled under his breath. He didn’t want to call Glasgow. Doctor Owen Harper: useless bloody coward. That’s not exactly the way he wanted to introduce himself.
His mobile jangled in his pocket and he pulled it out. He was so relieved to see Toshiko’s number come up in the display that he nearly dropped his phone answering.
“Tosh? Where are you?”
“Locked in a wiring closet,” she replied. “You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to build a relay. Where are you?”
“Out on the Plass waiting for Ianto.”
“Where’s Ianto?” Tosh asked sharply.
“Going after Andy,” Owen sighed, looking up at the water tower.
“What?!” Tosh screeched in his ear. “Owen, are you crazy? Andy’s completely possessed! He’ll take Ianto apart!”
I heard that, Ianto’s voice echoed warmly in both their skulls. He felt like warm drinks and filing cabinets, and Owen found himself having to fight down a sudden urge to alphabetize. And I’m fine.
“What the --?” Owen and Tosh asked simultaneously.
Tosh, stay where you are. You'll be safe in that closet until Jack or I can retrieve you. Owen, stick with the plan. Do not come in here until one of us gives you the all-clear. Do you hear me?
“Fine. Fine,” Owen said aloud into his mobile. “Now get out of my head. It’s creepy.”
# # #
The Meirwon flexed their human host’s fingers and paced around the morgue. Their beacon - the human Jack Harkness - was broken at their feet. He’d been a fascinating toy while he’d lasted, but this Jones creature was even more intriguing. They hadn’t even heard it come in. And then, suddenly, there had been a bright flash of psychic life and they’d tasted him.
They couldn’t wait to crush, consume, take. This one would have the secrets they needed to access the Rift manipulator. With that, they could rend their way into the Other Place and free their lost brothers and sisters. It had been too long since they had devoured the dreams of the living, swallowing their lives whole. It was hard, keeping this one alive. They needed it to see, and to control the horde of clumsy hands they used to take possession of the area, but they loathed it. So weak. So afraid in its own little corner of its fragile, meat-filled skull.
The Jones thing made no attempt at concealing itself any longer. The Meirwon could taste it coming in spite of its psychic shell, and they trembled with anticipation of their kill. They stepped over the beacon’s corpse and out onto the walkway as the Jones creature approached.
“Under most circumstances,” the Jones thing began, speaking with its human mouth, “it’s customary to offer an alien intelligence such as yourself an opportunity to cease and desist, and to extend an offer to assist with an appropriate relocation scheme.”
How strange, they responded, studying the human. Do many agree to your terms?
The Jones thing shrugged. “The smart ones do.”
And the foolish ones? The Meirwon felt their psychic fangs and tendrils begin to spread and prepare to strike.
“Oh, they always come around in the end.” Ianto grinned as something tapped the Meirwon’s host body on the shoulder. It spun right and saw nothing. Surprised and angry, it spun left.
“Good night, Gracie,” Jack smirked, punching Andy square in the mouth. The Meirwon stumbled back, and straight into Ianto’s hand.
The hand wearing the psychic amplifier.
With a whipping motion, Ianto tore the Meirwon from Andy’s body, strangling it in an invisible fist. His silver eyes flashed and blazed as he strengthened his grip.
“Time to go home,” Ianto snarled, and plunged their minds into oblivion.
---
Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
---