[fic] Bloody Torchwood (5/18)
Title: Bloody Torchwood (5/18)
Author: noscrubs12345
sirius100 Prompt: Variations on Reality (original)
Pairings: Remus/Sirius, Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: Sirius Black knew there was something he didn't like about Cardiff. He just didn't expect it to be a rift in time and space. But, once taken, will he be able to make it back to the wizarding world? Or will he be stuck with bloody Torchwood if his friends don't find him first? And what does a mysterious blonde woman have to do with the strange blue box hidden inside the Department of Mysteries?
Warnings: crossover, spoilers through Torchwood series two and Doctor Who series four
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, Russell T Davies, the BBC, various publishers, including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Missed the beginning?: Part I || Part II || Part III || Part IV
or
Bloody Torchwood @ AO3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Space-time rifts? You mean wormholes?” James said with a snort and, crossing his arms, settled into his chair. “Aren’t they just something Muggles made up?”
Remus glared at him.
“What?”
Dumbledore chuckled as he crossed to the fireplace and leaned against the carved mantle.
“Muggles are much more clever than you give them credit for, Prongs,” Remus said with a roll of his eyes. Turning to Dumbledore, he added, “Professor Hartnell mentioned them in Muggle Studies once. He...seemed to find them a rather interesting, if somewhat ignored vessel for science fiction.”
“Ah,” Dumbledore said, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “I don’t suppose he told you anything outside the realms of fiction?”
“No, not that I remember,” Remus said, leaning back in his chair.
“Me neither,” James said. “You know how he is when it comes to Muggles-on about something one minute then off on something else the next.”
“Well,” Dumbledore said, eyes sparkling, and clapped his hands together. “What would you say if I told you they were real?”
“I’d say the Ministry would know about them,” James said and leaned forward in his chair. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “I’ve never heard or read anything about them, though. There’s not much on time travel in the archives save time turners.”
“I’d expect not. The Department of Mysteries likes to keep quiet about certain things,” Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. “For example, the time fissure in the West Country. They covered that up with rumours of isolated hauntings and mass hallucinations.”
“And that has what to do with Sirius’s disappearance?” James asked. “Fissures and wormholes aren’t exactly something we have to worry about with Voldemort. At least not yet anyway. Merlin help us all if he got his hands on something he could use to change history.”
“Let’s try to remain optimistic, shall we? We haven’t lost the war yet.” Dumbledore regarded James over his half-moon spectacles. Clearing his throat, he shifted and turned back to Remus. “I remember visiting your family somewhere in the north of Wales when we were discussing the conditions of your education. I assumed your family was from there?”
“My tad was from Pembrokeshire originally. Mam’s from an old Cardiff family. That’s where she and Tad met.” Remus paused to swallow the lump in his throat before continuing. “We moved north again after I was bitten. But Mam moved to Barry last year after...after everything.”
Dumbledore inclined his head briefly. “I see. Are there any seers on her side of the family?”
“They’re Muggles. Nothing or nobody out of the ordinary save Mam and me.” Remus frowned. “I’m afraid I’m not following you, sir.”
“In some instances those with prolonged exposure to a rift in space-time can develop psychic or clairvoyant abilities. You’re sure there’s nothing?”
“Absolutely. Why?”
Dumbledore “hmmed” and stroked his beard. Outside the wind picked up, whistling through the village and rattling the shutters. “I was just curious.”
James snorted.
Both Remus and Dumbledore looked at him, the former with a glare, the latter a look of amused disinterest on his face.
“What? A time rift in Cardiff? How daft is that?”
Dumbledore chuckled and Remus groaned.
“I’m afraid it isn’t ‘daft,’ as you put it, at all,” Dumbledore said, and Remus could tell he was trying not to grin. “There’s one running straight through the city.”
Remus sighed. “Great. Just when I was starting to convince this one,” he pointed to James, “that Wales wasn’t as bad as he thinks it is.”
“I like Wales just fine, thanks,” James bit back, hiding a smile as Remus rolled his eyes. Turning to Dumbledore, he said, “But what does that have to do with Sirius?”
“Everything,” Dumbledore said, his eyes sparkling. “Not only does the Rift spit things out from other times and places, it also takes things from the present.”
“People too?” Remus asked.
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “People too.”
James whistled; Remus flinched at the high pitch. “Damn.”
“My thoughts exactly,” the headmaster said.
Remus cleared his throat. “So that means he could anywhere and anywhen?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Let me guess-there’s no way of knowing where or when he is?” Remus heaved a long-suffering sigh when Dumbledore nodded again. “So how are we supposed to find him?”
After a moment Dumbledore asked, “I assume you both keep up with the lunar cycles?”
“Yes,” both wizards said in tandem.
“Ah, good. Have you noticed anything different? Anything out of the ordinary? Sudden, unexplained astronomical anomalies? How about any changes in your transformations, Remus?”
“They haven’t been as bad,” Remus confessed and started to worry his lip. “I just assumed the potions I’ve been testing were working.”
“Kill yourself with those, you will,” James said, sighing. “I haven’t noticed anything myself, but there’s rumours floating around the Ministry that the stars are starting to disappear. It’s rubbish, if you ask me. Too many people smoking too much of something they shouldn't be.”
Dumbledore chuckled. “Usually I’d agree with you, but I’m afraid this isn’t just hearsay.”
“What do you mean?” Remus asked, his heart beating faster. “What’s going on?”
Dumbledore first met Remus’s eyes then James’s before he pushed away from the fireplace and crossed back over to the window. The two wizards turned in their chairs to watch him.
“Albus?” Remus asked, cringing as his voice cracked. “Please. Just tell us.”
“It’s simple, Remus,” he said, his voice distant. “There’s something moving in the darkness.”
He slowly turned to face them once again. “And it’s coming.”
***
“Go ahead then,” the dark-haired man said, voice scratchy. “Shoot me. I don’t care. Just be quick about it, yeah?”
Jack opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again. Frowning, he looked over at Ianto, who shrugged.
“What the hell are you?” the captain said and shifted his stance, gripping his gun tighter. “How’d you get out of the compound? Those doors are reinforced steel.”
Black laughed somewhat hysterically and Jack caught Ianto’s shudder out of the corner of his eye.
“Like you’d even care,” the man said, voice breaking as he failed to choke back another sob.
“Oh, you’d be surprised what I care about. Try me. Mage? One of the Trickster’s lot?”
“How do I know you won’t just shoot me regardless?” The man stiffened and looked up at Jack, his grey eyes steely.
“Because right now I want to know what you are and what threat you pose. I don’t want to shoot you,” Jack spat, keeping his gun level. “We can help you, if you want it. Before we can-and despite how we tried to last night-I need to know a little more about you.”
The man snorted. “Like what?”
“Lots of planets have had 1979s and there are lots of places called Cardiff on Earth besides those on other worlds. Which one are you from?”
“You’re mad,” the man said, and he seemed to shrink into himself at the idea of different worlds. “As a bloody hatter. There’s no such thing as aliens.”
“The last person who told us that was one,” Ianto said and Black turned to look at him. “In fact, she was part of a sleeper cell gathering intel before launching an invasion.”
“I don’t understand,” he said, looking between Ianto’s gun and his stoic face.
“Don’t worry, that happens a lot in our line of work,” the Welshman said gently, as if talking to a small child. He lowered his gun, though he didn’t put it away, and crouched down in front of the young man. “We’re not here to hurt you, we’re here to help in anyway we can as long as you’ll let us.”
“Ianto,” Jack cautioned, frowning at him.
“Jack,” Ianto countered, one eyebrow raised.
***
Sirius watched as they stared at each other, an intense, almost cold, look gracing the American’s face and one of calm indifference on the Welshman’s. He held his breath as they seemed to wage a wordless war with each other before the American sighed.
“Fine,” he said, looking away, and Sirius thought he saw Jones’s lips quirk up before he schooled his expression.
He relaxed his aim, but still held his gun at the ready. “What planet are you from?”
Sirius looked back at Jones, who smiled at him.
“Answer the question,” he said, inclining his head. He bit his lip, but Sirius could still see the smile he was trying to hide. “He doesn’t bite. Unless you want him to, but I’m not quite certain he’s up to date on all his jabs. Best not to really. He gets ever so excited.”
Sirius’s eyes widened at Harkness’s-or whatever his name was; he could remember it starting with an H-lecherous grin in response. He wondered if he should be expecting a house to fall on him at any moment. He looked up at the sky, but had to blink furiously as a raindrop landed in his eye. Great. Rain was all he needed. Now he’d be not only cold and hungry but wet.
“You know, I can make you talk if I have to,” the American said as if he was commenting on the weather.
“If I said I was from Mars would that make you happy?” Sirius huffed and rubbed at his eye.
“Nope,” Harkness said. “Humans won’t colonise Mars for another fifty years, and you’re too cute to be one of the natives.”
Sirius sighed and pulled his knees to his chest while Jones rolled his eyes. “I’m from Earth, 1979. I was born in London, grew up there, and went to school in Scotland when I was eleven. Happy?”
“Not really,” the American said. Sirius didn’t know if he wanted to cry or hit him. “That doesn’t explain how you escaped from the compound or why you seem to have an unusually high level of artron energy around you.”
“You’re wouldn’t believe me,” Sirius spit out. “Hell, if I was a Muggle, I wouldn’t believe me.”
“Muggle?” Jones said, his tone cautious. “What’s a Muggle?”
Sirius bit his lip as he studied Jones. It would be easy to lie, but Jones just looked confused. For half a moment he thought of knocking him over and making a run for it, but he had a feeling the American wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if he so much as looked at Jones the wrong way. Besides, if he was going to be stuck here and at least one of the men was making an effort to understand him without pointing a weapon at him then he might as well try to find an ally. In for a knut, in for a galleon. He cleared his throat and swiped at the stray tear that rolled down his cheek. “Someone non-magical. Someone not like me.”
He was sure Jones would be feeling whiplash later with the speed he turned to look up at Harkness.
“Jack?” the man said, eyes never leaving the American’s face as he waited for him to say something.
Sirius could feel Harkness’s eyes on him, but he didn’t dare turn to face him. He screwed his eyes shut and waited for the man’s answer.
“There’s no such thing as a magic,” the American stated after a moment, but there was something in his tone that suggested maybe he wasn’t quite sure.
Sirius smirked, deciding to exploit that uncertainty. “Are you sure about that?”
“I’ve travelled through time and space with a man who could change his face, fought creatures worse than you could imagine, and lived through a year that never happened.” Harkness’s voice was quiet and even. “You’ll forgive me if I’m a bit unimpressed by things claiming to be ‘magical.’ Advanced technology and science just appears that way to unadvanced cultures. Clarke’s third law.”
“You took my wand, didn’t you?” Sirius asked after a beat as it dawned on him where it must be if these were Muggles. Clever ones, too, if they didn’t just think it was a fancy stick he had a sentimental attachment to. “I couldn’t find it when I woke up in that...that cell. I could show you some magic if I had it. Show you that it’s real and I’m not mad.”
“Wand?” Harkness asked and Sirius could imagine him sharing a confused look with Jones. “All we took was your wallet and a carved stick.”
“That’d be my wand,” Sirius said dryly. So much for being clever. “What’d you do with it?”
Jones cleared his throat. “It’s back at our base. There were some strange energy readings coming from it.”
“Of course there would be. It’s magical, isn’t it?” Sirius turned his head to look at the man. “This isn’t your base?”
Jones shook his head, and Harkness’s continued scowl seemed to confirm it.
“Then where the hell am I?” Sirius yelled, causing a nearby gull to squawk and take flight. “You can’t just go around locking innoncent people up like that!”
“Jack,” Jones said with a sigh, looking up at the American. “Maybe this isn’t the best place to have this discussion?”
“Didn’t you hear me?” Sirius shouted before Harkness could reply. He turned to look at him, chest heaving and fists by his side. “Where the hell am I, what the hell is Torchwood and what the fuck are you lot going to do to me? I’ve got rights, even if I am your prisoner, and my friends’ll be looking for me if they know I’m gone by now. You say you want to help me-then fucking do something instead of waving that bloody gun around and help me get home. I have a life and friends I need to get back to! There’s a war on; they could die and I’d never get to say goodbye!”
Harkness’s eyes had widened but his mouth remained set, and Sirius wanted to hit him, to mar his stupid, handsome face. He didn’t care that Harkness could kill him if he wanted or that he may be hurting his chance to get back if what he and Jones were saying was the truth. Meeting Harkness’s eyes, his raised his chin. He could feel tears trickling down his cheeks, but he ignored them, steeling himself instead for whatever happened next.
Part VI
Author: noscrubs12345
sirius100 Prompt: Variations on Reality (original)
Pairings: Remus/Sirius, Jack/Ianto
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: Sirius Black knew there was something he didn't like about Cardiff. He just didn't expect it to be a rift in time and space. But, once taken, will he be able to make it back to the wizarding world? Or will he be stuck with bloody Torchwood if his friends don't find him first? And what does a mysterious blonde woman have to do with the strange blue box hidden inside the Department of Mysteries?
Warnings: crossover, spoilers through Torchwood series two and Doctor Who series four
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, Russell T Davies, the BBC, various publishers, including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Missed the beginning?: Part I || Part II || Part III || Part IV
or
Bloody Torchwood @ AO3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Space-time rifts? You mean wormholes?” James said with a snort and, crossing his arms, settled into his chair. “Aren’t they just something Muggles made up?”
Remus glared at him.
“What?”
Dumbledore chuckled as he crossed to the fireplace and leaned against the carved mantle.
“Muggles are much more clever than you give them credit for, Prongs,” Remus said with a roll of his eyes. Turning to Dumbledore, he added, “Professor Hartnell mentioned them in Muggle Studies once. He...seemed to find them a rather interesting, if somewhat ignored vessel for science fiction.”
“Ah,” Dumbledore said, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “I don’t suppose he told you anything outside the realms of fiction?”
“No, not that I remember,” Remus said, leaning back in his chair.
“Me neither,” James said. “You know how he is when it comes to Muggles-on about something one minute then off on something else the next.”
“Well,” Dumbledore said, eyes sparkling, and clapped his hands together. “What would you say if I told you they were real?”
“I’d say the Ministry would know about them,” James said and leaned forward in his chair. He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “I’ve never heard or read anything about them, though. There’s not much on time travel in the archives save time turners.”
“I’d expect not. The Department of Mysteries likes to keep quiet about certain things,” Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. “For example, the time fissure in the West Country. They covered that up with rumours of isolated hauntings and mass hallucinations.”
“And that has what to do with Sirius’s disappearance?” James asked. “Fissures and wormholes aren’t exactly something we have to worry about with Voldemort. At least not yet anyway. Merlin help us all if he got his hands on something he could use to change history.”
“Let’s try to remain optimistic, shall we? We haven’t lost the war yet.” Dumbledore regarded James over his half-moon spectacles. Clearing his throat, he shifted and turned back to Remus. “I remember visiting your family somewhere in the north of Wales when we were discussing the conditions of your education. I assumed your family was from there?”
“My tad was from Pembrokeshire originally. Mam’s from an old Cardiff family. That’s where she and Tad met.” Remus paused to swallow the lump in his throat before continuing. “We moved north again after I was bitten. But Mam moved to Barry last year after...after everything.”
Dumbledore inclined his head briefly. “I see. Are there any seers on her side of the family?”
“They’re Muggles. Nothing or nobody out of the ordinary save Mam and me.” Remus frowned. “I’m afraid I’m not following you, sir.”
“In some instances those with prolonged exposure to a rift in space-time can develop psychic or clairvoyant abilities. You’re sure there’s nothing?”
“Absolutely. Why?”
Dumbledore “hmmed” and stroked his beard. Outside the wind picked up, whistling through the village and rattling the shutters. “I was just curious.”
James snorted.
Both Remus and Dumbledore looked at him, the former with a glare, the latter a look of amused disinterest on his face.
“What? A time rift in Cardiff? How daft is that?”
Dumbledore chuckled and Remus groaned.
“I’m afraid it isn’t ‘daft,’ as you put it, at all,” Dumbledore said, and Remus could tell he was trying not to grin. “There’s one running straight through the city.”
Remus sighed. “Great. Just when I was starting to convince this one,” he pointed to James, “that Wales wasn’t as bad as he thinks it is.”
“I like Wales just fine, thanks,” James bit back, hiding a smile as Remus rolled his eyes. Turning to Dumbledore, he said, “But what does that have to do with Sirius?”
“Everything,” Dumbledore said, his eyes sparkling. “Not only does the Rift spit things out from other times and places, it also takes things from the present.”
“People too?” Remus asked.
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “People too.”
James whistled; Remus flinched at the high pitch. “Damn.”
“My thoughts exactly,” the headmaster said.
Remus cleared his throat. “So that means he could anywhere and anywhen?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Let me guess-there’s no way of knowing where or when he is?” Remus heaved a long-suffering sigh when Dumbledore nodded again. “So how are we supposed to find him?”
After a moment Dumbledore asked, “I assume you both keep up with the lunar cycles?”
“Yes,” both wizards said in tandem.
“Ah, good. Have you noticed anything different? Anything out of the ordinary? Sudden, unexplained astronomical anomalies? How about any changes in your transformations, Remus?”
“They haven’t been as bad,” Remus confessed and started to worry his lip. “I just assumed the potions I’ve been testing were working.”
“Kill yourself with those, you will,” James said, sighing. “I haven’t noticed anything myself, but there’s rumours floating around the Ministry that the stars are starting to disappear. It’s rubbish, if you ask me. Too many people smoking too much of something they shouldn't be.”
Dumbledore chuckled. “Usually I’d agree with you, but I’m afraid this isn’t just hearsay.”
“What do you mean?” Remus asked, his heart beating faster. “What’s going on?”
Dumbledore first met Remus’s eyes then James’s before he pushed away from the fireplace and crossed back over to the window. The two wizards turned in their chairs to watch him.
“Albus?” Remus asked, cringing as his voice cracked. “Please. Just tell us.”
“It’s simple, Remus,” he said, his voice distant. “There’s something moving in the darkness.”
He slowly turned to face them once again. “And it’s coming.”
***
“Go ahead then,” the dark-haired man said, voice scratchy. “Shoot me. I don’t care. Just be quick about it, yeah?”
Jack opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again. Frowning, he looked over at Ianto, who shrugged.
“What the hell are you?” the captain said and shifted his stance, gripping his gun tighter. “How’d you get out of the compound? Those doors are reinforced steel.”
Black laughed somewhat hysterically and Jack caught Ianto’s shudder out of the corner of his eye.
“Like you’d even care,” the man said, voice breaking as he failed to choke back another sob.
“Oh, you’d be surprised what I care about. Try me. Mage? One of the Trickster’s lot?”
“How do I know you won’t just shoot me regardless?” The man stiffened and looked up at Jack, his grey eyes steely.
“Because right now I want to know what you are and what threat you pose. I don’t want to shoot you,” Jack spat, keeping his gun level. “We can help you, if you want it. Before we can-and despite how we tried to last night-I need to know a little more about you.”
The man snorted. “Like what?”
“Lots of planets have had 1979s and there are lots of places called Cardiff on Earth besides those on other worlds. Which one are you from?”
“You’re mad,” the man said, and he seemed to shrink into himself at the idea of different worlds. “As a bloody hatter. There’s no such thing as aliens.”
“The last person who told us that was one,” Ianto said and Black turned to look at him. “In fact, she was part of a sleeper cell gathering intel before launching an invasion.”
“I don’t understand,” he said, looking between Ianto’s gun and his stoic face.
“Don’t worry, that happens a lot in our line of work,” the Welshman said gently, as if talking to a small child. He lowered his gun, though he didn’t put it away, and crouched down in front of the young man. “We’re not here to hurt you, we’re here to help in anyway we can as long as you’ll let us.”
“Ianto,” Jack cautioned, frowning at him.
“Jack,” Ianto countered, one eyebrow raised.
***
Sirius watched as they stared at each other, an intense, almost cold, look gracing the American’s face and one of calm indifference on the Welshman’s. He held his breath as they seemed to wage a wordless war with each other before the American sighed.
“Fine,” he said, looking away, and Sirius thought he saw Jones’s lips quirk up before he schooled his expression.
He relaxed his aim, but still held his gun at the ready. “What planet are you from?”
Sirius looked back at Jones, who smiled at him.
“Answer the question,” he said, inclining his head. He bit his lip, but Sirius could still see the smile he was trying to hide. “He doesn’t bite. Unless you want him to, but I’m not quite certain he’s up to date on all his jabs. Best not to really. He gets ever so excited.”
Sirius’s eyes widened at Harkness’s-or whatever his name was; he could remember it starting with an H-lecherous grin in response. He wondered if he should be expecting a house to fall on him at any moment. He looked up at the sky, but had to blink furiously as a raindrop landed in his eye. Great. Rain was all he needed. Now he’d be not only cold and hungry but wet.
“You know, I can make you talk if I have to,” the American said as if he was commenting on the weather.
“If I said I was from Mars would that make you happy?” Sirius huffed and rubbed at his eye.
“Nope,” Harkness said. “Humans won’t colonise Mars for another fifty years, and you’re too cute to be one of the natives.”
Sirius sighed and pulled his knees to his chest while Jones rolled his eyes. “I’m from Earth, 1979. I was born in London, grew up there, and went to school in Scotland when I was eleven. Happy?”
“Not really,” the American said. Sirius didn’t know if he wanted to cry or hit him. “That doesn’t explain how you escaped from the compound or why you seem to have an unusually high level of artron energy around you.”
“You’re wouldn’t believe me,” Sirius spit out. “Hell, if I was a Muggle, I wouldn’t believe me.”
“Muggle?” Jones said, his tone cautious. “What’s a Muggle?”
Sirius bit his lip as he studied Jones. It would be easy to lie, but Jones just looked confused. For half a moment he thought of knocking him over and making a run for it, but he had a feeling the American wouldn’t hesitate to shoot if he so much as looked at Jones the wrong way. Besides, if he was going to be stuck here and at least one of the men was making an effort to understand him without pointing a weapon at him then he might as well try to find an ally. In for a knut, in for a galleon. He cleared his throat and swiped at the stray tear that rolled down his cheek. “Someone non-magical. Someone not like me.”
He was sure Jones would be feeling whiplash later with the speed he turned to look up at Harkness.
“Jack?” the man said, eyes never leaving the American’s face as he waited for him to say something.
Sirius could feel Harkness’s eyes on him, but he didn’t dare turn to face him. He screwed his eyes shut and waited for the man’s answer.
“There’s no such thing as a magic,” the American stated after a moment, but there was something in his tone that suggested maybe he wasn’t quite sure.
Sirius smirked, deciding to exploit that uncertainty. “Are you sure about that?”
“I’ve travelled through time and space with a man who could change his face, fought creatures worse than you could imagine, and lived through a year that never happened.” Harkness’s voice was quiet and even. “You’ll forgive me if I’m a bit unimpressed by things claiming to be ‘magical.’ Advanced technology and science just appears that way to unadvanced cultures. Clarke’s third law.”
“You took my wand, didn’t you?” Sirius asked after a beat as it dawned on him where it must be if these were Muggles. Clever ones, too, if they didn’t just think it was a fancy stick he had a sentimental attachment to. “I couldn’t find it when I woke up in that...that cell. I could show you some magic if I had it. Show you that it’s real and I’m not mad.”
“Wand?” Harkness asked and Sirius could imagine him sharing a confused look with Jones. “All we took was your wallet and a carved stick.”
“That’d be my wand,” Sirius said dryly. So much for being clever. “What’d you do with it?”
Jones cleared his throat. “It’s back at our base. There were some strange energy readings coming from it.”
“Of course there would be. It’s magical, isn’t it?” Sirius turned his head to look at the man. “This isn’t your base?”
Jones shook his head, and Harkness’s continued scowl seemed to confirm it.
“Then where the hell am I?” Sirius yelled, causing a nearby gull to squawk and take flight. “You can’t just go around locking innoncent people up like that!”
“Jack,” Jones said with a sigh, looking up at the American. “Maybe this isn’t the best place to have this discussion?”
“Didn’t you hear me?” Sirius shouted before Harkness could reply. He turned to look at him, chest heaving and fists by his side. “Where the hell am I, what the hell is Torchwood and what the fuck are you lot going to do to me? I’ve got rights, even if I am your prisoner, and my friends’ll be looking for me if they know I’m gone by now. You say you want to help me-then fucking do something instead of waving that bloody gun around and help me get home. I have a life and friends I need to get back to! There’s a war on; they could die and I’d never get to say goodbye!”
Harkness’s eyes had widened but his mouth remained set, and Sirius wanted to hit him, to mar his stupid, handsome face. He didn’t care that Harkness could kill him if he wanted or that he may be hurting his chance to get back if what he and Jones were saying was the truth. Meeting Harkness’s eyes, his raised his chin. He could feel tears trickling down his cheeks, but he ignored them, steeling himself instead for whatever happened next.
Part VI