Sleeping Dragons 03.14
SLEEPING DRAGONS
Episode 03 - Smiths & Joneses
by Soledad
Author’s notes: For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the secondary index page.
CHAPTER 14
Trevor Howard came in for the night shift almost an hour too early - which was nothing new. He loved his work at Torchwood Three, just as he’d loved to work for Headquarters; with the additional bonus of a close-knit, familiar group of co-workers that he found very nice. That, and the continued presence of Toshiko Sato, certifiable genius and the loveliest lady he’d ever met. Working with Toshiko was absolutely inspiring, and the fact that he was also easy on the eyes didn’t harm things.
As expected, he found Toshiko in the main lab and was greeted by an absent-minded smile. On the tabletop on her right sat a large crate with Torchwood stencil; she was examining a small artefact with the molecular scanner.
“What are you doing here?” Trevor asked conditionally, placing his lunch bag next to the crate.
“Emma’s found a lot of unlabelled Class D artefacts somewhere in the Archives,” Toshiko replied, without taking her eyes off the scanner. “I’m running a full check so she can put them away.”
“That’s hardly the job of the Head Scientist,” Trevor commented neutrally. Toshiko shrugged.
“Just utilizing the time while the Rift is quiet. I’ve finished my experiment and there isn’t enough left from my shift to start a new one.”
“Need a hand with that?” Trevor offered.
“Sure, if you have the time,” Toshiko still wouldn’t look at him, which was strange. Why would she act so oddly?
They’d been friends for years, had bonded after Canary Wharf over the death of Dr. Rajesh Sing, a good, decent man with whom Trevor had worked and Toshiko had an on-off relationship with - as much as it had been possible over the distance between London and Cardiff. After Trevor had been hired by Jonesy, they’d developed a good working relationship that never suffered from the more… personal feelings he nurtured for her. As a rule, they could talk about everything; which made Toshiko’s current behaviour out of synch.
“So, what can I do?” Trevor asked, looking around.
“Go through the reports and find out when these artefacts came through the Rift,” Toshiko said. “I’d normally put Emma to do it, but she’s already drowning in work, now that she must do Ianto’s part, too... well part of it.”
“No problem,” Trevor said. “Still have an hour before my shift would start. I brought you lunch,” he handed her a sandwich. “Smoked salmon - your favourite, right? Wanna have a beer with that? Jonesy always keeps some in the fridge of the tourist office. Says that spending a day in the dusty Archives is thirsty work.”
“Actually, I’d need something stronger,” Toshiko muttered. “But I can’t afford it while I’m still working.”
Trevor frowned. He’d been working for Torchwood Three for roughly a year now, and in that time he’d rarely seen Toshiko having anything stronger than a cocktail - and even that only for recreation purposes, never to drown her frustration. She was a much disciplined person, with a high tolerance level for stress.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.
Toshiko ignored his question in favour of the artefact in her hand. “Any idea when this came through? It’s got a low meson energy reading.”
“No; I haven’t even started looking,” Trevor took the artefact from her and laid it to the side. “Toshiko, talk to me. I’m your friend, remember? What’s wrong?”
Toshiko still refused to look at him. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? It’s… personal.”
“But you would talk about it to Jonesy, wouldn’t you?”
“That’s different. He… he was here when it happened.”
“When what happened?” Trevor knew that pressing for answers could be unwise; Toshiko didn’t like it and could react badly - but he also felt that this was something she really deeded to get off her chest.
She scowled at him. “Ianto was here the last time we had to deal with an Arcateenian. When I made a complete fool of myself. Happy now?”
“I see…”
Trevor knew about the event in question, of course. He’d studied the reports from the time on since Captain Harkness took over the Cardiff branch, and especially from the time Jonesy had worked here. So yes, he knew about Toshiko’s doomed affair with the murderous female alien (although, according to the Archives, all Arcateerians were female, at least those allowed to leave their homeworld). And while he understood her embarrassment, he found it a little exaggerated.
“Hey,” he said encouragingly, “it wasn’t your fault. She fooled everyone, remember?”
“Yeah, but I was the one stupid enough to be seduced by her,” she replied bitterly. “I was finally ready to move on after Raji; almost ready to admit to myself that Owen wasn’t worth the effort - only to become the puppet of a murderous alien who just wanted her travelling pod back.”
“What made you attracted to her anyway?” Trevor asked. “I didn’t know you were interested in women.”
“I wasn’t; not really,” Toshiko sighed. “It was just… I was fed up with being ignored and ridiculed by the others. Mary, she… she gave me the feeling as if I were something special. Something precious.”
“You are all that and more,” Trevor said firmly.
“But it was all just a trick, don’t you see?” Toshiko replied with a brittle smile. “She was manipulating me; giving me what I was yearning for and alienating me from the rest of the team, so that I’d play right into her hands. She gave me this pendant, and when I saw what Owen and that slut of his were thinking about me, I was so angry! I didn’t want anything to do with them ever again!”
“I think we’re all better off not knowing what other people think about us,” Trevor commented.
“You’re right, that’s the last thing we should know,” Toshiko agreed. “It was embarrassing, humiliating… and frightening on more levels than I’d care to count. And Mary, I mean the Arcateenian in human disguise, exposed me to all that, just because she wanted to get into the Hub; to get her travelling pod back. So you can perhaps understand why I’m not happy to let Ianto fall into the hands of another one. Even if Sarah Jane says they’re usually nice.”
“I can see it,” Trevor said slowly. “But if we want Jonesy to get better, we’ll need all the help we can get.”
“I know,” Toshiko seemed indeed not very happy about it. “I just don’t trust the kind of help Jack’s about to hire.” She shook her head, then she picked up the artefact she’d been checking before and laid it under the scanner again. “Well, according to the molecular breakdown, this potentially alien, complex artefact is, in fact, made out of wood.”
Trevor shrugged. “So what? Other planets ought to have trees, too. It could hardly have picked up meson energy here, on Earth - unless it came through the Rift.”
“Or it’s been contaminated by the other artefacts,” Toshiko sighed. “I really need to have words with the retrieval teams. This was sloppy work. Where did it come anyway?”
Trevor cross-checked the code number of the artefact with the database. “Apparently, it was found on an excavation a few months back. One of Andy’s former colleagues brought it in, with the comment that weird stuff is our area of expertise.”
“Doesn’t seem like that at the moment,” Toshiko muttered. “All right, I’ll label it as unknown. It isn’t dangerous, so Emma can put it with the other junk we have no idea what to use for. So, what’s next?”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jack, Sarah Jane, Lloyd, Owen, Martha and Jenny drove over to St. Helen’s with the Torchwood SUV and Sarah Jane’s car, respectively, after the beginning of night shift. Tosh had politely declined to go with them, offering to help with categorising the unlabelled artefacts indeed, and Jack didn’t press.
Neither did he insist on sending her home to rest. He knew she’d only worry about Ianto and relive painful memories if left alone. It was better for her if she had some company - and lots of work to distract her.
Angie - Doctor Angela Connelly, a voluptuous, dark-skinned woman with very short hair and a heart of pure gold under that professional, no-nonsense attitude of hers - was already waiting for them in front of the hospital. She let them park in the private area, usually reserved for the doctors working here, and guided them through little-used corridors on a route where they could get to Ianto’s private room without being spotted. What they were planning to do was better kept under cover.
“Any changes?” Jack asked en route. Angie shook her head.
“No; but it can’t really be expected by such severe trauma, I hope there’s no permanent brain damage. Because if there is, I don’t know what anyone could do for him.”
“You can’t tell for sure?” Jack felt cold dread creeping up his spine. She shook her head again.
“Not with our diagnostic equipment, we cannot. I’ll ask Owen to bring that Bekaran deep-tissue scanner next time; perhaps we can get some answers with the help of that.”
“Why haven’t you used it already?” Jack demanded.
“Because we didn’t dare yet,” Angie gave him a sour look. She didn’t like her work being criticized by amateurs who had no clue about the intricacies of the human body and the possible dangers of meddling with it the wrong way. “Stick to your alien gizmos, Captain and let the health of people be our problem. We, at least, know what we are doing,” she pushed the door of Ianto’s room open. “Here we are. Go on in; and you don’t need to whisper. It isn’t so as if you could wake him up by accident. Unfortunately.”
They filed into the room hesitantly, fearing the sight that would be offered to them - but were surprised. Ianto, who was lying on the bed, hooked up to all sorts of monitors, saline drips and only the doctors among them knew what, appeared amazingly peaceful. Much more so than at the times when he’d been on the telepathic leash of the eraser. He also seemed incredibly young, now that the ever-present frown lines on his brow had been smoothened out. He looked as if he’d been sleeping.
Tom Milligan, looking like a man who hadn’t slept for days, rose from his chair at Ianto’s bedside and offered it to Jack, who took it with a thankful nod.
“Is it time?” he asked. Jack nodded again.
“Let’s give it a try,” he looked at Sarah Jane. “Can you summon your friend now?”
“She contacted me yesterday, telling me that she’d found the healer we needed and is only waiting for my signal,” Sarah Jane answered. “We’ll need a safe place where they can land, though. Those travelling pods can’t go through solid walls.”
“They can land on the flat roof, right above our head,” Angie offered, “And then come down the fire ladder directly into this room,” seeing their surprise, she shrugged. “Standard evacuation procedure: coma patients need to be somewhere where they can be easily taken to safety, in case of an emergency.”
Sarah Jane rummaged in her handbag and fished out a small, oval object. “All right, then. I’ve got the summoner. Show me the way.”
Angie was already on the move, and Sarah Jane hurried after her. Jack looked at Jenny.
“Go with them… just in case. Are you armed?”
Jenny patted something under her jacket. “Jamolean lance, Captain. Works on practically all life forms.”
And off she was, hot on the two older women’s heels.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
She caught up with theme easily enough, just as they’d reached the roof. There Sarah Jane let her hand glide over the surface of her small tool a few times, until it began to glow in a pale blue light. Then she held it out in her cupped palm - and waited.
“How long until they get here?” Jenny asked.
“Not very long,” Sarah Jane answered. “They’re in orbit already; have done most of the journey yesterday and the day before. Now all they need is to get through Earth’s atmosphere safely.”
They waited with growing impatience. Finally, about fifteen minutes later, some kind of spark appeared on the night sky - something like a falling star. It came down quickly, grew in size and lowered itself onto the roof, hovering for a moment before it would sit up on the concrete floor.
It was the strangest space faring object Jenny had ever seen, and considering all the strange things she’d already seen in her short life, that was saying a lot. Roughly egg-shaped and half as tall as she was, it consisted of lightly bent pieces of solid metal, with some unknown kind of force field sealing the empty places between the metallic “ribs”. No matter from which direction one looked at it, it appeared exactly the same from all sides.
“What now?” Jenny asked. Sarah Jane shrugged.
“Patience, child. They have to adjust to our environmental conditions. It will take but a moment, though.”
And indeed, less than a minute later, the shimmering of the force field suddenly ceased. What was left was a seemingly empty construction of bent metal ribs - and from between those ribs something like pale blue water was spilling. It pooled at the underside of the travelling pod, separated into two individual puddles, and then coalesced into the ethereal shapes of two incredible creatures.
They were a good head shorter than Jenny (and she wasn’t particularly tall to begin with), slim and very fragile-looking, which probably came from the fact that their bodies were translucent and semi-liquid. They didn’t seem to have a bone structure at all, which was odd, given their very long and slender fingers that looked decidedly bony. Their internal structure, consisting of softly pulsing organs in various pale colours, could faintly be seen through their bluish skin - or rather the thin membrane that served as their skin.
A great mass of gossamer-fine tendrils covered their heads, flowing down all the way their narrow backs. As they were standing there, they swayed lightly, like sea grass in an underwater storm. They had vaguely humanoid, almost doll-like faces, in which only the huge, luminous eyes seemed finished, and they stared at the humans with hypnotic intensity.
Sarah Jane was the first to break the spell. Tucking the device back into her handbag, she stepped forward and held out both hands, with upturned palms. One of the aliens moved towards her - it was a peculiar form of locomotion, as if the creature had been blown closer by a gentle, invisible wind - and those long, knotted, twig-like fingers wrapped themselves around Sarah Jane’s palm and wrists.
Obviously, this created a deeper connection, too, because Sarah Jane was smiling in genuine delight.
“It’s good to see you, too,” she said. “Now, is this the one who might help us?”
The aliens bowed with such a boneless grace that no being with an actual endoskeleton could have copied. Jenny was reminded of the graceful creatures living on the bottom of the ocean of that water planet she’d once visited; but these were intelligent, space-faring beings, no longer bound to a specific planet or a specific environment...
They were simply amazing.
Again, Sarah Jane was the one to break the spell. “We should be moving,” she said. “Even at night, somebody could spot us here on the roof.”
Lead the way, someone replied, and Jenny realized with a jolt that she didn’t actually hear that answer with her ears; it rather echoed in her mind. Judging by Angie’s startled expression, she’d hear it, too. It didn’t only work on telepaths, then, Interesting.
“What about the pod?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we take it with us?”
We must, the mental echo answered. We cannot afford to lose it. We would be trapped on this planet.
“Take it, please,” Sarah Jane said. “It’s not heavy; I held one of those in my hands once.”
Jenny picked up the pod. It was surprisingly light for its size indeed; she wondered what kind of metal it was made and what kind of technology made it tic.
We don’t know, the mental voice answered. You should ask one of our engineers.
“Stop ghosting around in my head!” Jenny groused.
We are not, they answered. You broadcast very loudly. You shall need training; to learn how to keep your thoughts to yourself.
“Yea, and in a night with a blue moon pigs might even fly,” Jenny muttered, quite perplexed by her answer and wondering where that had come from. She didn’t even know what pigs looked like. Could it have been part of her father’s personal memories?
That was a thought for further investigation. Right now, she was eager to watch the alien healer at work.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ianto Jones was at peace. His ever-active mind finally at rest, his body hooked up to various machines that kept it alive - well, mostly alive - and he was finally done with doing. He was just being now, and it was wonderful.
The previous days had been bad, really bad. His brain had felt on fire, while thoughts he could not understand whirled around in it, interspersed with vivid images of violent deaths. Deaths that he had caused. Images of broken bodies - young girls he had murdered with his bare hands, choking the life out of them.
He’d fought the wrongness of those memories until he couldn’t fight anymore. When the flames had ceased to lick around his brain, he gladly succumbed to the following darkness.
At least in the darkness there were no memories. It felt like floating in blessedly cool water. Everything was so distant and detached, and he liked the feeling. It was… restful, and he had been so terribly exhausted for so long. It felt good to be able to rest… to just be.
Sometimes he heard voices, faint and far-away, and he knew he should know them. They sounded worried, anxious even - some tiny part of him that still cared knew that those voices belonged to his friends who were worried for him.
How silly of them! He wanted to laugh at them, to tell them that there was no reason to worry, that he was feeling better than he’d ever been in his life; that thy should be happy for him. But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t open his eyes, he couldn’t even twitch a finger of his hand that was lying limply in a much larger, warmer one. Jack’s hand.
That saddened Ianto a little. He could feel Jack’s anxiety, his fear for him, the desperate effort to reach him. It was a little strange; they’d never connected on that level before - in fact, he hadn’t even known Jack could do something like that. But again, people would probably develop new abilities by the fifty-first century, due to natural evolution and possibly genetic manipulations.
Plus, one shouldn’t forget about Time Agent training. Who knew what Jack had been- would be - taught during his time with the Agency?
In any case, Ianto wanted to reach Jack, to tell him that he was fine… but it didn’t seem possible. He couldn’t even send him the tiniest sign.
No, you cannot, a mental voice said in his head. Not from here. You must come out of hiding first.
He felt a gentle yet irresistible pull - and panicked. He didn’t want to leave here, to lose this calmness and peace. He didn’t want to return to all the noise, the suffering, the loneliness that had filled his life outside. To the deaths.
You must, the voice insisted, and the pull intensified. You cannot stay here, or you shall die. Your mind is breaking down, and I can only help you if you are awake.
Ianto was still resisting, not wanting to give up his newfound peace, this wondrous place where he, finally, no longer hurt - but then, unexpectedly, he could feel the sudden presence of Jack in his head, warm, agitated and desperate.
Please, Ianto, don’t leave us… don’t leave me! I need you! I never understood before how much. Please, come back to me!
Jack wouldn’t say the words, not even from mind to mind, but there was no need for that. Not really. In the ultimate intimacy of mind contact, his feelings lay bare and unprotected before Ianto: worry, loneliness, longing, passion, desire… and love. Something Ianto had always been wondering about.
Now he had his answer. If he went back to his life, that life would be changed, forever.
He still wasn’t sure he wanted to go back. Life was painful and, for everyone but Jack working for Torchwood, potentially short, with a violent end. But at least now he wouldn’t have to wonder about Jack and Gwen. Not after having seen the truth.
And Jack deserved not to be so utterly alone. At least not while Ianto could remain on his side, no matter how short that would be. He was lonely enough as it was.
With a last, reluctant look at his wondrously peaceful mindscape, Ianto gave a mental sigh and allowed to be pulled out of it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“He’s coming back!” Owen yelled, trying to hold down Ianto who’d begun trashing on the bed violently. “Milligan, help me! It ain’t looking good!”
Tom was already preparing the shot emergency doctors used in such cases, but his hand suddenly stopped in mid-air and he gave Owen a concerned look.
“I don’t know, Harper. Should we dare to sedate him when he’s just waked up from a coma?”
No chemicals, came the warning from the alien healer, who had practically formed a puddle of herself around Ianto’s head. A puddle with a doll-like face and long, knotted fingers tat seemed to penetrate Ianto’s skull, although, at second sight, they didn’t; not really. The balance of his mind is delicate Keep him immobilized and let me do what I can.
The human doctors didn’t seem happy with hat solution, but they didn’t really have any other choice, either. So Tom and Owen, with Jack’s help, tried to hold Ianto down, until his trashing gradually clamed and he eased into restless sleep.
The Arcateenian healer uncurled herself and straightened with the fluid grace of a striking cobra. It was an unsettling sight, to say the least. Even if they knew that she was harmless and only wanted to help.
This was just the beginning, she told them. I shall have to return into his mind at least one more time, to sort out the memories. Some of them seem false, but I shall not be able to delete them completely. He has already internised them.
“But you can make him aware of their falseness, can’t you?” Martha asked.
The healer did that swaying-in-the-wind thing again, this time clearly as a gesture of agreement.
I can try. But there is physical damage to the brain, too, which I cannot heal. His neural pathways are breaking down, and I don’t know how to repair them. I am a mind-healer, not a neurosurgeon. Although, by such extensive damage, I am not certain that even a neurosurgeon could help.
“What does it mean in plain English?” Owen demanded. “Are you telling me that his brain will continue to degenerate, until he becomes a slobbering idiot or what?”
Basically, yes, the doll-face of the alien remained unchanged, but her luminous eyes clearly expressed regret. I am truly sorry. Perhaps sending him back to his peace would be more merciful. There, at least, he was happy.
“No!” Jack replied hoarsely. “I’m not giving up just yet. Think, Owen! You work best under pressure. What can we do?”
Owen wracked his brain for a solution. “Well, obviously, we need a way to restore his brain to the condition it was before the eraser started messing with it. Unfortunately, the human brain doesn’t have a Reset button, and its regenerative abilities are limited. Unless…”
He suddenly looked at Jack. Their eyes met in a moment of crystal clear understanding, and they exclaimed in unison:
“Nanogenes!”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“But how are we gonna get them here quickly enough?” Owen asked. “Where do you keep the little buggers anyway?”
“In the safe in my… in the office.” Technically, it was Ianto’s office now, but - by mutual agreement - everyone ignored that fact. Even though Jack no longer lived in the little bunker below it.
“Then you should go and fetch them,” Owen said, “before Teaboy’s brain degenerates beyond help.”
“No need for that,” Jack flipped out his phone. “Tosh can do it. She’s the third one with the authorization to open the safe.”
Yeah, but she won’t be so happy to meet our new bestest buddies here,” Owen reminded him. “There was a reason why she wanted to stay behind, remember?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Jack speed-dialled Tosh’s number. “She will come when Ianto’s life and sanity are at stake.”
His prediction proved true when, less than half an hour later, Tosh indeed arrived with the ominous little stasis tube holding the nanogenes. Which only reminded Jack that he’d forgotten something crucially important.
“We’ll need one of Ianto’s brain scans,” he said. “The nanogenes need a template, based on which they work. We don’t want them to reconfigure Ianto’s brain to match that of the average Joe from the time of the London Blitz.”
“Why would they do that?” Tom asked with a frown.
“Because that’s how they work,” Jack snapped impatiently. “They find damage, they tap into their database and repair the damage according to what they find there. Now, these guys have data about the physical landscape of twenty-first century humans in general, but no specifics about the brain; especially not Ianto’s brain, which if far from the average. So, where on Earth could we get our hands on some old brain scans?”
Tosh shot him a wounded look, in the manner of a woman whose intelligence had been unjustly challenged.
“Really, Jack, just how stupid do you think I am? Of course have I brought all Ianto’s medical files with me; including the very detailed brain scans they made at Headquarters while he still worked for Torchwood London.”
“They scanned his brain?” Jack was honestly surprised. “What for?”
Tosh rolled her eyes. “Jack, he’s got an eidetic memory. He was hired because of it; because that was what Headquarters needed for their Archivists. You didn’t really think they wouldn’t have documented those extraordinary brains serving as their ultimate safety net?”
“I’m sure they did,” Jack said. “But I’m fairly sure those files weren’t easily accessible. Knowing Ianto and his obsession with safety, he most likely had them protected by multiple firewalls and a double password-lock.”
“A triple one, actually,” Tosh replied. “Lucky for him that I know all the passwords, isn’t it?”
“You broke Ianto’s protection?” Jack was duly impressed.
Tosh shrugged. “No; he told me them, just in case something like this would happen.”
“He gave you his passwords?” Jack was ridiculously hurt by that. “But he didn’t give them me?”
“You weren’t available at the time,” Tosh said simply. “It happened shortly after you’d left with the Doctor.”
“But why the hell didn’t give he the passwords me, the stupid git?” Owen demanded angrily. “This is medical information; confidential medical information. It should have been accessible for me; I was our only medic at that time.”
“Perhaps; but Ianto needed somebody he could actually trust, and you weren’t high on his very short list of trustworthy persons back then,” Tosh snapped. “Now, shall we keep arguing about whys and wherefores until it’s too late or shall we try to use the nanogenes to help Ianto?”
“She’s right, you know,” Martha interfered quietly before either of the two men could answer. “Stop your bitchfest, for this one time, and see that we heal Ianto - if we can.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jack always loved watching the nanogenes in action. Loved as the tiny machines swarmed around a damaged human body like a cloud of sunlit dust particles, entered it and then left it again, after they’d repaired the damage, dutifully returning to their stasis tube. They were like small sparks, tamed to his hand. Like a healing spell from some fairy tale taking physical form.
Of course, not all of them would leave the healed body again. Quite a few of them had to remain behind, bind with the organism, become an integral part of it, so that the repairs would hold.
That was why he used them so sparingly. Twenty-first century Earth didn’t have the technology needed to produce more of them, and they didn’t multiplicate on their own.
By simple physical wounds, only a few of them were required to remain behind. By the neural damage of Ianto’s brain, Jack wondered if any of them would return. Damaged nerves didn’t regenerate on their own. Ianto would have to depend on the little robots for the rest of his life.
But at least he’d be able to lead a normal life, with all his wits about him, instead of vegetating like a mindless husk for the rest of it somewhere like Providence Park. Or, if things came to the worst, on Flat Holm.
“I wonder if there’ll be any of them left once they’re finished,” Jack murmured to Jenny, the only person with at least theoretical knowledge about Chulan technology.
“How long does it take for them to heal somebody?” Jenny asked.
“They repair physical injuries in seconds to in a few minutes,” Jack explained. “When that Nostrovite gutted one of Rhys’ friends a few months ago, they worked on the guy for roughly half an hour, but they had to regrow half his internal organs. With neural damage - I just don’t know. I hope they can do something at least.”
“If they can’t repair the damaged neural pathways, they can still stimulate the brain to bypass them and develop new ones,” Martha said. “Sometimes the human brain does this on its own. It all depends on the extent of the damage.”
“In that case, though, he’ll have some difficulties to adjust later,” Owen added,
Jack became deathly pale, hearing that. “You mean he’ll never be his old self again?”
“Oh, I think he’ll get back there, eventually,” Owen replied with a shrug. “But he might need extensive physiotherapy as well. This won’t be a quick and easy recovery, just so that you don’t expect any miracles.”
Chapter 15
Episode 03 - Smiths & Joneses
by Soledad
Author’s notes: For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the secondary index page.
CHAPTER 14
Trevor Howard came in for the night shift almost an hour too early - which was nothing new. He loved his work at Torchwood Three, just as he’d loved to work for Headquarters; with the additional bonus of a close-knit, familiar group of co-workers that he found very nice. That, and the continued presence of Toshiko Sato, certifiable genius and the loveliest lady he’d ever met. Working with Toshiko was absolutely inspiring, and the fact that he was also easy on the eyes didn’t harm things.
As expected, he found Toshiko in the main lab and was greeted by an absent-minded smile. On the tabletop on her right sat a large crate with Torchwood stencil; she was examining a small artefact with the molecular scanner.
“What are you doing here?” Trevor asked conditionally, placing his lunch bag next to the crate.
“Emma’s found a lot of unlabelled Class D artefacts somewhere in the Archives,” Toshiko replied, without taking her eyes off the scanner. “I’m running a full check so she can put them away.”
“That’s hardly the job of the Head Scientist,” Trevor commented neutrally. Toshiko shrugged.
“Just utilizing the time while the Rift is quiet. I’ve finished my experiment and there isn’t enough left from my shift to start a new one.”
“Need a hand with that?” Trevor offered.
“Sure, if you have the time,” Toshiko still wouldn’t look at him, which was strange. Why would she act so oddly?
They’d been friends for years, had bonded after Canary Wharf over the death of Dr. Rajesh Sing, a good, decent man with whom Trevor had worked and Toshiko had an on-off relationship with - as much as it had been possible over the distance between London and Cardiff. After Trevor had been hired by Jonesy, they’d developed a good working relationship that never suffered from the more… personal feelings he nurtured for her. As a rule, they could talk about everything; which made Toshiko’s current behaviour out of synch.
“So, what can I do?” Trevor asked, looking around.
“Go through the reports and find out when these artefacts came through the Rift,” Toshiko said. “I’d normally put Emma to do it, but she’s already drowning in work, now that she must do Ianto’s part, too... well part of it.”
“No problem,” Trevor said. “Still have an hour before my shift would start. I brought you lunch,” he handed her a sandwich. “Smoked salmon - your favourite, right? Wanna have a beer with that? Jonesy always keeps some in the fridge of the tourist office. Says that spending a day in the dusty Archives is thirsty work.”
“Actually, I’d need something stronger,” Toshiko muttered. “But I can’t afford it while I’m still working.”
Trevor frowned. He’d been working for Torchwood Three for roughly a year now, and in that time he’d rarely seen Toshiko having anything stronger than a cocktail - and even that only for recreation purposes, never to drown her frustration. She was a much disciplined person, with a high tolerance level for stress.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.
Toshiko ignored his question in favour of the artefact in her hand. “Any idea when this came through? It’s got a low meson energy reading.”
“No; I haven’t even started looking,” Trevor took the artefact from her and laid it to the side. “Toshiko, talk to me. I’m your friend, remember? What’s wrong?”
Toshiko still refused to look at him. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? It’s… personal.”
“But you would talk about it to Jonesy, wouldn’t you?”
“That’s different. He… he was here when it happened.”
“When what happened?” Trevor knew that pressing for answers could be unwise; Toshiko didn’t like it and could react badly - but he also felt that this was something she really deeded to get off her chest.
She scowled at him. “Ianto was here the last time we had to deal with an Arcateenian. When I made a complete fool of myself. Happy now?”
“I see…”
Trevor knew about the event in question, of course. He’d studied the reports from the time on since Captain Harkness took over the Cardiff branch, and especially from the time Jonesy had worked here. So yes, he knew about Toshiko’s doomed affair with the murderous female alien (although, according to the Archives, all Arcateerians were female, at least those allowed to leave their homeworld). And while he understood her embarrassment, he found it a little exaggerated.
“Hey,” he said encouragingly, “it wasn’t your fault. She fooled everyone, remember?”
“Yeah, but I was the one stupid enough to be seduced by her,” she replied bitterly. “I was finally ready to move on after Raji; almost ready to admit to myself that Owen wasn’t worth the effort - only to become the puppet of a murderous alien who just wanted her travelling pod back.”
“What made you attracted to her anyway?” Trevor asked. “I didn’t know you were interested in women.”
“I wasn’t; not really,” Toshiko sighed. “It was just… I was fed up with being ignored and ridiculed by the others. Mary, she… she gave me the feeling as if I were something special. Something precious.”
“You are all that and more,” Trevor said firmly.
“But it was all just a trick, don’t you see?” Toshiko replied with a brittle smile. “She was manipulating me; giving me what I was yearning for and alienating me from the rest of the team, so that I’d play right into her hands. She gave me this pendant, and when I saw what Owen and that slut of his were thinking about me, I was so angry! I didn’t want anything to do with them ever again!”
“I think we’re all better off not knowing what other people think about us,” Trevor commented.
“You’re right, that’s the last thing we should know,” Toshiko agreed. “It was embarrassing, humiliating… and frightening on more levels than I’d care to count. And Mary, I mean the Arcateenian in human disguise, exposed me to all that, just because she wanted to get into the Hub; to get her travelling pod back. So you can perhaps understand why I’m not happy to let Ianto fall into the hands of another one. Even if Sarah Jane says they’re usually nice.”
“I can see it,” Trevor said slowly. “But if we want Jonesy to get better, we’ll need all the help we can get.”
“I know,” Toshiko seemed indeed not very happy about it. “I just don’t trust the kind of help Jack’s about to hire.” She shook her head, then she picked up the artefact she’d been checking before and laid it under the scanner again. “Well, according to the molecular breakdown, this potentially alien, complex artefact is, in fact, made out of wood.”
Trevor shrugged. “So what? Other planets ought to have trees, too. It could hardly have picked up meson energy here, on Earth - unless it came through the Rift.”
“Or it’s been contaminated by the other artefacts,” Toshiko sighed. “I really need to have words with the retrieval teams. This was sloppy work. Where did it come anyway?”
Trevor cross-checked the code number of the artefact with the database. “Apparently, it was found on an excavation a few months back. One of Andy’s former colleagues brought it in, with the comment that weird stuff is our area of expertise.”
“Doesn’t seem like that at the moment,” Toshiko muttered. “All right, I’ll label it as unknown. It isn’t dangerous, so Emma can put it with the other junk we have no idea what to use for. So, what’s next?”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jack, Sarah Jane, Lloyd, Owen, Martha and Jenny drove over to St. Helen’s with the Torchwood SUV and Sarah Jane’s car, respectively, after the beginning of night shift. Tosh had politely declined to go with them, offering to help with categorising the unlabelled artefacts indeed, and Jack didn’t press.
Neither did he insist on sending her home to rest. He knew she’d only worry about Ianto and relive painful memories if left alone. It was better for her if she had some company - and lots of work to distract her.
Angie - Doctor Angela Connelly, a voluptuous, dark-skinned woman with very short hair and a heart of pure gold under that professional, no-nonsense attitude of hers - was already waiting for them in front of the hospital. She let them park in the private area, usually reserved for the doctors working here, and guided them through little-used corridors on a route where they could get to Ianto’s private room without being spotted. What they were planning to do was better kept under cover.
“Any changes?” Jack asked en route. Angie shook her head.
“No; but it can’t really be expected by such severe trauma, I hope there’s no permanent brain damage. Because if there is, I don’t know what anyone could do for him.”
“You can’t tell for sure?” Jack felt cold dread creeping up his spine. She shook her head again.
“Not with our diagnostic equipment, we cannot. I’ll ask Owen to bring that Bekaran deep-tissue scanner next time; perhaps we can get some answers with the help of that.”
“Why haven’t you used it already?” Jack demanded.
“Because we didn’t dare yet,” Angie gave him a sour look. She didn’t like her work being criticized by amateurs who had no clue about the intricacies of the human body and the possible dangers of meddling with it the wrong way. “Stick to your alien gizmos, Captain and let the health of people be our problem. We, at least, know what we are doing,” she pushed the door of Ianto’s room open. “Here we are. Go on in; and you don’t need to whisper. It isn’t so as if you could wake him up by accident. Unfortunately.”
They filed into the room hesitantly, fearing the sight that would be offered to them - but were surprised. Ianto, who was lying on the bed, hooked up to all sorts of monitors, saline drips and only the doctors among them knew what, appeared amazingly peaceful. Much more so than at the times when he’d been on the telepathic leash of the eraser. He also seemed incredibly young, now that the ever-present frown lines on his brow had been smoothened out. He looked as if he’d been sleeping.
Tom Milligan, looking like a man who hadn’t slept for days, rose from his chair at Ianto’s bedside and offered it to Jack, who took it with a thankful nod.
“Is it time?” he asked. Jack nodded again.
“Let’s give it a try,” he looked at Sarah Jane. “Can you summon your friend now?”
“She contacted me yesterday, telling me that she’d found the healer we needed and is only waiting for my signal,” Sarah Jane answered. “We’ll need a safe place where they can land, though. Those travelling pods can’t go through solid walls.”
“They can land on the flat roof, right above our head,” Angie offered, “And then come down the fire ladder directly into this room,” seeing their surprise, she shrugged. “Standard evacuation procedure: coma patients need to be somewhere where they can be easily taken to safety, in case of an emergency.”
Sarah Jane rummaged in her handbag and fished out a small, oval object. “All right, then. I’ve got the summoner. Show me the way.”
Angie was already on the move, and Sarah Jane hurried after her. Jack looked at Jenny.
“Go with them… just in case. Are you armed?”
Jenny patted something under her jacket. “Jamolean lance, Captain. Works on practically all life forms.”
And off she was, hot on the two older women’s heels.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
She caught up with theme easily enough, just as they’d reached the roof. There Sarah Jane let her hand glide over the surface of her small tool a few times, until it began to glow in a pale blue light. Then she held it out in her cupped palm - and waited.
“How long until they get here?” Jenny asked.
“Not very long,” Sarah Jane answered. “They’re in orbit already; have done most of the journey yesterday and the day before. Now all they need is to get through Earth’s atmosphere safely.”
They waited with growing impatience. Finally, about fifteen minutes later, some kind of spark appeared on the night sky - something like a falling star. It came down quickly, grew in size and lowered itself onto the roof, hovering for a moment before it would sit up on the concrete floor.
It was the strangest space faring object Jenny had ever seen, and considering all the strange things she’d already seen in her short life, that was saying a lot. Roughly egg-shaped and half as tall as she was, it consisted of lightly bent pieces of solid metal, with some unknown kind of force field sealing the empty places between the metallic “ribs”. No matter from which direction one looked at it, it appeared exactly the same from all sides.
“What now?” Jenny asked. Sarah Jane shrugged.
“Patience, child. They have to adjust to our environmental conditions. It will take but a moment, though.”
And indeed, less than a minute later, the shimmering of the force field suddenly ceased. What was left was a seemingly empty construction of bent metal ribs - and from between those ribs something like pale blue water was spilling. It pooled at the underside of the travelling pod, separated into two individual puddles, and then coalesced into the ethereal shapes of two incredible creatures.
They were a good head shorter than Jenny (and she wasn’t particularly tall to begin with), slim and very fragile-looking, which probably came from the fact that their bodies were translucent and semi-liquid. They didn’t seem to have a bone structure at all, which was odd, given their very long and slender fingers that looked decidedly bony. Their internal structure, consisting of softly pulsing organs in various pale colours, could faintly be seen through their bluish skin - or rather the thin membrane that served as their skin.
A great mass of gossamer-fine tendrils covered their heads, flowing down all the way their narrow backs. As they were standing there, they swayed lightly, like sea grass in an underwater storm. They had vaguely humanoid, almost doll-like faces, in which only the huge, luminous eyes seemed finished, and they stared at the humans with hypnotic intensity.
Sarah Jane was the first to break the spell. Tucking the device back into her handbag, she stepped forward and held out both hands, with upturned palms. One of the aliens moved towards her - it was a peculiar form of locomotion, as if the creature had been blown closer by a gentle, invisible wind - and those long, knotted, twig-like fingers wrapped themselves around Sarah Jane’s palm and wrists.
Obviously, this created a deeper connection, too, because Sarah Jane was smiling in genuine delight.
“It’s good to see you, too,” she said. “Now, is this the one who might help us?”
The aliens bowed with such a boneless grace that no being with an actual endoskeleton could have copied. Jenny was reminded of the graceful creatures living on the bottom of the ocean of that water planet she’d once visited; but these were intelligent, space-faring beings, no longer bound to a specific planet or a specific environment...
They were simply amazing.
Again, Sarah Jane was the one to break the spell. “We should be moving,” she said. “Even at night, somebody could spot us here on the roof.”
Lead the way, someone replied, and Jenny realized with a jolt that she didn’t actually hear that answer with her ears; it rather echoed in her mind. Judging by Angie’s startled expression, she’d hear it, too. It didn’t only work on telepaths, then, Interesting.
“What about the pod?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we take it with us?”
We must, the mental echo answered. We cannot afford to lose it. We would be trapped on this planet.
“Take it, please,” Sarah Jane said. “It’s not heavy; I held one of those in my hands once.”
Jenny picked up the pod. It was surprisingly light for its size indeed; she wondered what kind of metal it was made and what kind of technology made it tic.
We don’t know, the mental voice answered. You should ask one of our engineers.
“Stop ghosting around in my head!” Jenny groused.
We are not, they answered. You broadcast very loudly. You shall need training; to learn how to keep your thoughts to yourself.
“Yea, and in a night with a blue moon pigs might even fly,” Jenny muttered, quite perplexed by her answer and wondering where that had come from. She didn’t even know what pigs looked like. Could it have been part of her father’s personal memories?
That was a thought for further investigation. Right now, she was eager to watch the alien healer at work.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ianto Jones was at peace. His ever-active mind finally at rest, his body hooked up to various machines that kept it alive - well, mostly alive - and he was finally done with doing. He was just being now, and it was wonderful.
The previous days had been bad, really bad. His brain had felt on fire, while thoughts he could not understand whirled around in it, interspersed with vivid images of violent deaths. Deaths that he had caused. Images of broken bodies - young girls he had murdered with his bare hands, choking the life out of them.
He’d fought the wrongness of those memories until he couldn’t fight anymore. When the flames had ceased to lick around his brain, he gladly succumbed to the following darkness.
At least in the darkness there were no memories. It felt like floating in blessedly cool water. Everything was so distant and detached, and he liked the feeling. It was… restful, and he had been so terribly exhausted for so long. It felt good to be able to rest… to just be.
Sometimes he heard voices, faint and far-away, and he knew he should know them. They sounded worried, anxious even - some tiny part of him that still cared knew that those voices belonged to his friends who were worried for him.
How silly of them! He wanted to laugh at them, to tell them that there was no reason to worry, that he was feeling better than he’d ever been in his life; that thy should be happy for him. But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t open his eyes, he couldn’t even twitch a finger of his hand that was lying limply in a much larger, warmer one. Jack’s hand.
That saddened Ianto a little. He could feel Jack’s anxiety, his fear for him, the desperate effort to reach him. It was a little strange; they’d never connected on that level before - in fact, he hadn’t even known Jack could do something like that. But again, people would probably develop new abilities by the fifty-first century, due to natural evolution and possibly genetic manipulations.
Plus, one shouldn’t forget about Time Agent training. Who knew what Jack had been- would be - taught during his time with the Agency?
In any case, Ianto wanted to reach Jack, to tell him that he was fine… but it didn’t seem possible. He couldn’t even send him the tiniest sign.
No, you cannot, a mental voice said in his head. Not from here. You must come out of hiding first.
He felt a gentle yet irresistible pull - and panicked. He didn’t want to leave here, to lose this calmness and peace. He didn’t want to return to all the noise, the suffering, the loneliness that had filled his life outside. To the deaths.
You must, the voice insisted, and the pull intensified. You cannot stay here, or you shall die. Your mind is breaking down, and I can only help you if you are awake.
Ianto was still resisting, not wanting to give up his newfound peace, this wondrous place where he, finally, no longer hurt - but then, unexpectedly, he could feel the sudden presence of Jack in his head, warm, agitated and desperate.
Please, Ianto, don’t leave us… don’t leave me! I need you! I never understood before how much. Please, come back to me!
Jack wouldn’t say the words, not even from mind to mind, but there was no need for that. Not really. In the ultimate intimacy of mind contact, his feelings lay bare and unprotected before Ianto: worry, loneliness, longing, passion, desire… and love. Something Ianto had always been wondering about.
Now he had his answer. If he went back to his life, that life would be changed, forever.
He still wasn’t sure he wanted to go back. Life was painful and, for everyone but Jack working for Torchwood, potentially short, with a violent end. But at least now he wouldn’t have to wonder about Jack and Gwen. Not after having seen the truth.
And Jack deserved not to be so utterly alone. At least not while Ianto could remain on his side, no matter how short that would be. He was lonely enough as it was.
With a last, reluctant look at his wondrously peaceful mindscape, Ianto gave a mental sigh and allowed to be pulled out of it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“He’s coming back!” Owen yelled, trying to hold down Ianto who’d begun trashing on the bed violently. “Milligan, help me! It ain’t looking good!”
Tom was already preparing the shot emergency doctors used in such cases, but his hand suddenly stopped in mid-air and he gave Owen a concerned look.
“I don’t know, Harper. Should we dare to sedate him when he’s just waked up from a coma?”
No chemicals, came the warning from the alien healer, who had practically formed a puddle of herself around Ianto’s head. A puddle with a doll-like face and long, knotted fingers tat seemed to penetrate Ianto’s skull, although, at second sight, they didn’t; not really. The balance of his mind is delicate Keep him immobilized and let me do what I can.
The human doctors didn’t seem happy with hat solution, but they didn’t really have any other choice, either. So Tom and Owen, with Jack’s help, tried to hold Ianto down, until his trashing gradually clamed and he eased into restless sleep.
The Arcateenian healer uncurled herself and straightened with the fluid grace of a striking cobra. It was an unsettling sight, to say the least. Even if they knew that she was harmless and only wanted to help.
This was just the beginning, she told them. I shall have to return into his mind at least one more time, to sort out the memories. Some of them seem false, but I shall not be able to delete them completely. He has already internised them.
“But you can make him aware of their falseness, can’t you?” Martha asked.
The healer did that swaying-in-the-wind thing again, this time clearly as a gesture of agreement.
I can try. But there is physical damage to the brain, too, which I cannot heal. His neural pathways are breaking down, and I don’t know how to repair them. I am a mind-healer, not a neurosurgeon. Although, by such extensive damage, I am not certain that even a neurosurgeon could help.
“What does it mean in plain English?” Owen demanded. “Are you telling me that his brain will continue to degenerate, until he becomes a slobbering idiot or what?”
Basically, yes, the doll-face of the alien remained unchanged, but her luminous eyes clearly expressed regret. I am truly sorry. Perhaps sending him back to his peace would be more merciful. There, at least, he was happy.
“No!” Jack replied hoarsely. “I’m not giving up just yet. Think, Owen! You work best under pressure. What can we do?”
Owen wracked his brain for a solution. “Well, obviously, we need a way to restore his brain to the condition it was before the eraser started messing with it. Unfortunately, the human brain doesn’t have a Reset button, and its regenerative abilities are limited. Unless…”
He suddenly looked at Jack. Their eyes met in a moment of crystal clear understanding, and they exclaimed in unison:
“Nanogenes!”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“But how are we gonna get them here quickly enough?” Owen asked. “Where do you keep the little buggers anyway?”
“In the safe in my… in the office.” Technically, it was Ianto’s office now, but - by mutual agreement - everyone ignored that fact. Even though Jack no longer lived in the little bunker below it.
“Then you should go and fetch them,” Owen said, “before Teaboy’s brain degenerates beyond help.”
“No need for that,” Jack flipped out his phone. “Tosh can do it. She’s the third one with the authorization to open the safe.”
Yeah, but she won’t be so happy to meet our new bestest buddies here,” Owen reminded him. “There was a reason why she wanted to stay behind, remember?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Jack speed-dialled Tosh’s number. “She will come when Ianto’s life and sanity are at stake.”
His prediction proved true when, less than half an hour later, Tosh indeed arrived with the ominous little stasis tube holding the nanogenes. Which only reminded Jack that he’d forgotten something crucially important.
“We’ll need one of Ianto’s brain scans,” he said. “The nanogenes need a template, based on which they work. We don’t want them to reconfigure Ianto’s brain to match that of the average Joe from the time of the London Blitz.”
“Why would they do that?” Tom asked with a frown.
“Because that’s how they work,” Jack snapped impatiently. “They find damage, they tap into their database and repair the damage according to what they find there. Now, these guys have data about the physical landscape of twenty-first century humans in general, but no specifics about the brain; especially not Ianto’s brain, which if far from the average. So, where on Earth could we get our hands on some old brain scans?”
Tosh shot him a wounded look, in the manner of a woman whose intelligence had been unjustly challenged.
“Really, Jack, just how stupid do you think I am? Of course have I brought all Ianto’s medical files with me; including the very detailed brain scans they made at Headquarters while he still worked for Torchwood London.”
“They scanned his brain?” Jack was honestly surprised. “What for?”
Tosh rolled her eyes. “Jack, he’s got an eidetic memory. He was hired because of it; because that was what Headquarters needed for their Archivists. You didn’t really think they wouldn’t have documented those extraordinary brains serving as their ultimate safety net?”
“I’m sure they did,” Jack said. “But I’m fairly sure those files weren’t easily accessible. Knowing Ianto and his obsession with safety, he most likely had them protected by multiple firewalls and a double password-lock.”
“A triple one, actually,” Tosh replied. “Lucky for him that I know all the passwords, isn’t it?”
“You broke Ianto’s protection?” Jack was duly impressed.
Tosh shrugged. “No; he told me them, just in case something like this would happen.”
“He gave you his passwords?” Jack was ridiculously hurt by that. “But he didn’t give them me?”
“You weren’t available at the time,” Tosh said simply. “It happened shortly after you’d left with the Doctor.”
“But why the hell didn’t give he the passwords me, the stupid git?” Owen demanded angrily. “This is medical information; confidential medical information. It should have been accessible for me; I was our only medic at that time.”
“Perhaps; but Ianto needed somebody he could actually trust, and you weren’t high on his very short list of trustworthy persons back then,” Tosh snapped. “Now, shall we keep arguing about whys and wherefores until it’s too late or shall we try to use the nanogenes to help Ianto?”
“She’s right, you know,” Martha interfered quietly before either of the two men could answer. “Stop your bitchfest, for this one time, and see that we heal Ianto - if we can.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Jack always loved watching the nanogenes in action. Loved as the tiny machines swarmed around a damaged human body like a cloud of sunlit dust particles, entered it and then left it again, after they’d repaired the damage, dutifully returning to their stasis tube. They were like small sparks, tamed to his hand. Like a healing spell from some fairy tale taking physical form.
Of course, not all of them would leave the healed body again. Quite a few of them had to remain behind, bind with the organism, become an integral part of it, so that the repairs would hold.
That was why he used them so sparingly. Twenty-first century Earth didn’t have the technology needed to produce more of them, and they didn’t multiplicate on their own.
By simple physical wounds, only a few of them were required to remain behind. By the neural damage of Ianto’s brain, Jack wondered if any of them would return. Damaged nerves didn’t regenerate on their own. Ianto would have to depend on the little robots for the rest of his life.
But at least he’d be able to lead a normal life, with all his wits about him, instead of vegetating like a mindless husk for the rest of it somewhere like Providence Park. Or, if things came to the worst, on Flat Holm.
“I wonder if there’ll be any of them left once they’re finished,” Jack murmured to Jenny, the only person with at least theoretical knowledge about Chulan technology.
“How long does it take for them to heal somebody?” Jenny asked.
“They repair physical injuries in seconds to in a few minutes,” Jack explained. “When that Nostrovite gutted one of Rhys’ friends a few months ago, they worked on the guy for roughly half an hour, but they had to regrow half his internal organs. With neural damage - I just don’t know. I hope they can do something at least.”
“If they can’t repair the damaged neural pathways, they can still stimulate the brain to bypass them and develop new ones,” Martha said. “Sometimes the human brain does this on its own. It all depends on the extent of the damage.”
“In that case, though, he’ll have some difficulties to adjust later,” Owen added,
Jack became deathly pale, hearing that. “You mean he’ll never be his old self again?”
“Oh, I think he’ll get back there, eventually,” Owen replied with a shrug. “But he might need extensive physiotherapy as well. This won’t be a quick and easy recovery, just so that you don’t expect any miracles.”
Chapter 15