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d8rkmessngrAuthor: d8rkmessngr
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Note that "the Year That Never Was" was suggested that it wasn't fun. I took it as a challenge to somehow still find a way to instill comfort in it. If it didn't work, I'm sorry. I suck. LOL.
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: strong language, dark, angsty, VIOLENCE, torture (mostly implied, all a matter of reader interpretation), sappy maudlin
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are events/dialogue here that was referenced in DW's "Last of the Time Lords"
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36 Ch 37, Ch 38, Ch 39, Ch 40 1/11, Ch 40 2/11, Ch 40 3/11, Ch 40 4/11, Ch 40 5/11, Ch 40 6/11
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 40 "The Last of the Time Lords"
Act VII
Slave Quarters No. 361
Bexley, Kent
Bexley looked like every other town Martha had come across: stone streets swept clean of people, windows all boarded up and dark, the village silent as a cemetery.
Martha, her back against the outside wall of an abandoned church, her hands around a cup of tea from the thermos, watched the guards pace back and forth. Whatever Davidson had planned, hopefully it would be soon. Martha didn't like being out in the open for too long, necklace or not.
A quiet shuffle and the click of a tongue told Martha it was friend not foe approaching. She didn't move from her spot but did extend her mug to the newcomer.
"This used to be a street of nightclubs and restaurants," Milligan whispered. He sighed softly as he drank the last of the tea in her mug. He capped the thermos. Its dwindling contents sloshed in the battered container.
"Right there," Milligan nodded towards a short building with a tattered blue awning. "Best Greek I ever had."
"Oh," Martha muttered as she stared at the canvas flapping listlessly in the breeze. Se could make out a café table settled on its side, stripped of its metal legs. "I liked Greek food." She spared Milligan a brief smile. It felt too exhausting to try something broader. "Too bad."
Milligan gazed back at her, unblinking. Then he swallowed and looked away.
"Yeah," he murmured, "too bad."
A soft whistle drew their attention away from the street. Davidson, his face purposefully smudged with soot, hair covered in a black wool cap, smirked at them.
"Well?" Milligan asked. He passed the thermos to Davidson. "Still hot."
Davidson brightened and skips the mug when Martha nodded her head. Carefully, even when it looked like he wanted to slurp, Davidson drank.
"Well?" Milligan repeated impatiently.
Davidson, still drinking, held up his left hand. His thumb went down. Then his index. His middle. When he folded his pinky, completing the fist, a muffled explosion boomed in the distance. Suddenly guards, shouting and pointing, were running towards a distant plume of dark smoke.
"Okay," Davidson smacked his lips quietly as he lowered the thermos and handed it back to Martha with a crooked grin, "we can go in now."
Martha chuckled as Milligan gaped.
"How did—"
"Explosives." Davidson held up some frayed wires. He grinned. "Courtesy of Torchwood."
Milligan clapped Davidson on the shoulder. "Come on then," Milligan said as he nodded to the buildings across the street. "No Greek food, but I can at least get you two a bed."
Davidson scoffed as he trotted across the abandoned street. Martha merely shook her head and followed the two.
Valiant
Toshiko knew she shouldn't be doing this. This was stupid. Absolutely stupid.
The hallways were deserted due to the late night shift. Toshiko held the mop in her hand, dragging the bucket of soapy water behind her. She checked over her shoulder at every doorway she stopped in front of but so far the few soldiers left were too busy changing shifts. There were guards by the engine room, by the computer room and by the runaway. Everyone else had gone. Everyone else, with Saxon boarded a plane.
The plane left the Valiant just a few minutes ago.
Toshiko, while she was down on her knees, scrubbing the lavatories across the computers room, had heard the murmuring. There was a mix of pride from the recruited youth and defeat from the UNIT soldiers forced to work under Saxon. Both sets of voices were higher, faster in the face of the latest news.
Saxon had found Martha Jones.
The mop nearly clattered to the tiled floor when she had heard, but she held the handle tight to her face as she listened to the guards' young quavering voices outside the door.
Toshiko glanced to her left and right, but the changing of the guards hasn't happened yet for this floor. If she was going to do this, she needed to do this now.
With a deep breath, Toshiko wrapped her hand around the doorknob and turned it. She flinched at the quiet click. Heart hammering, Toshiko yanked the door open and darted quickly inside, cursing as her bucket sloshed loudly as it rolled in behind her.
The bridge was dark and quiet. Autopilot whirred timidly in the back of the room. All the lights were dim.
Toshiko scanned the room quickly but the tent Francine once described wasn't there. Just the conference table, the chairs, the stairs—
Oh.
Toshiko swallowed when she sighted the covered birdcage by the banister. She took a few steps towards it.
A scrap of brown rag was draped over the cage but she could hear stirring inside, rustling from something definitely larger than a bird. Toshiko reached for the cover, but drew her hand back. Toshiko held her right hand as she stared at the cage.
Toshiko really didn't want to pull the rag off. It was ridiculous though. She'd watched as Saxon turned that device on the Time Lord. She had seen what had been done. Toshiko bit her lower lip and reached for the cage again.
Only to jerk her hand back.
Damn, damn, damn. What was wrong with her? Come on, Sato. Chin up.
"It's all right."
Muffled, the tinny voice sounded like a sigh but even if it had lost the jubilant bass of before, Toshiko recognized it all the same.
"If it makes you feel better," the tiny voice spoke up again, "you can leave it on, Toshiko Sato. I don't mind."
Toshiko smiled sadly at the cloaked cage. She almost wished the knot in her throat didn't loosen at that. "Sorry. How did you know it was me?"
"You rushed in here like you didn't want to get caught and your mop bucket rattled." There was a tiny lilt of the confident Doctor still evident in his explanation. "You shouldn't be here, but since you are, I'm assuming there's an important reason for it."
"Saxon's gone to get Martha Jones!" Damn, she hadn't meant to say it like that.
There was a soft intake of breath inside and Toshiko suddenly had the irrational fear that she just given the nine hundred year old alien a heart attack.
"I see," the Doctor said hoarsely. "The device. Have you finished it?"
"It's done. I hid it—"
"Don't tell me. The fewer people who know, the better." The cage swayed, as there was more movement inside. "He's been waiting all this time. He knew where she would be. Just as I thought. He will bring her up here then."
Toshiko knitted her brow. "Doctor?"
"Saxon will want to bring Maratha here…to execute her on the telly...and in front of me."
Toshiko stiffened. "I'll find a way to contact my friends right now. The guards are all scattered, most of them are with Saxon. I—"
"Wait."
The voice was firm and stronger than before. Toshiko halted in her tracks.
"Let him bring her up here."
Toshiko spun around to the cage. "But—"
"It'll be all right. He'll wait until the rockets' countdown." There was a short laugh. "The Master has a thing about clocks."
Toshiko shifted from foot to foot. "What about the others?"
"Ianto Jones knows when to be here, not to worry," the Doctor assured her. "Don't concern yourself with that. I trust his instincts. Get up to those controls behind me. It's easier than trying to open the satellites system from the other room."
Toshiko found herself all the way up the stairs before the Doctor finished. She stared at the inactive terminal in dismay. Her hands fluttered weakly in the air in front of the console. "But I don't know the passwords for this terminal," she protested.
"I do." The Doctor gave a weary short laugh inside his prison. "All I hear is them clicking away up there everyday. Things tend to stick after a year of it."
"A year," Toshiko murmured as she sat down. She flexed her fingers and was startled to find her hands aching from months of hard labor. Has it really been a year?
The Doctor recited the password quickly to her then the lines of code once Toshiko hacked into the appropriate systems. In the empty bridge, Toshiko was very aware of time crawling on her skin like a snake coiling up her body. She kept checking the doors, kept jumping every time the ship trembled.
Hair on the back of her neck stuck to her collar as Toshiko typed as fast as she could. Her fingers kept missing the keys and she swore as she found herself slower than before.
"That's it?" Toshiko said skeptically when done. She stared at the console, feeling like she'd forgotten something.
"That's it."
"Just open up the Archangel network to also transmit to the ship?" It didn't make any sense. "I could try shutting down the signal to Earth or try to find Archangel's self-destruct."
The cage shook. "No, they would discover it too quickly. The Master has encrypted the systems so they can only send data, not receive. I've been trying to tune myself into the psychic network and integrate with its matrices but the Master has them blocked. He knew I would try. Any attempt and he'll know."
Toshiko stared at the terminal in dismay. She wanted to smash it to bits, damn what would happen to her.
"So…the people down there won't fight him then? All those people he enslaved?"
"Don't discount humanity yet. As powerful as the Master may seem to be, even a Time Lord, he is only just one," the Doctor said. The cage bobbed on its perch. "We can not destroy the satellites but with your equation and Jack, we're going to turn the Master's weapon to our favor."
Toshiko frowned. "Jack? But Francine said—"
"Never mind that. Just get that thing to Jack."
"But—"
"It'll be fine, Toshiko Sato."
The Doctor's voice had deepened to a syrupy lilt. Toshiko found herself nodding before she realized it. She reset the terminal to look like no one had been there and with a hurried step, she descended the stairs. Toshiko retrieved her mop, her bucket and was by the door when she paused. Toshiko glanced back to the cage. She took a step back towards the cage.
"Go," the Doctor said as if he could see her.
"Good luck," Toshiko whispered. It didn't feel strange to say it to him. She didn't wait for a reply and slipped out the door.
Toshiko was breathing heavily when she closed the door behind her. She straightened up and she gripped the mop firmly with shaky hands.
"Oi! What were you doing coming out of there?"
Bollocks.
Toshiko turned around slowly. Her heart sank when she saw it was one of the young men Saxon had recruited during his stint as minister. They tended to be too entrenched in their Master's spell to expect any help from them.
Eyes narrowed as they studied Toshiko then the door she had come out from. The assault rifle he held rose higher.
"No one's allowed in there," the soldier muttered. He looked at Toshiko up and down.
Toshiko gripped her mop tightly. "I went in by mistake." She tried to raise her voice to a quaver but the youth wasn't convinced.
"You're one of them Torchwood people, aren't you? The computer one?" The muzzle pointed at her heart now. "What were you—"
Thump.
Toshiko started and took a step back just as the soldier dropped face first to the floor, revealing a very stern looking Francine behind him, a dented tea tray in her hands high above her head.
"Francine!" Toshiko sighed in relief. She felt boneless now. "How'd you—"
"I heard about Martha. I was going to find the Doctor myself." Francine stared down at the body. "Good thing I did." She shot Toshiko an exasperated look.
"That was a foolish thing you did, child."
"Probably," Toshiko said meekly.
Francine rolled her eyes. She tucked the tray under her arm.
"Come on. You take his head, I'll grab his legs and you can tell me what the Doctor told you on the way to stuffing this lad in the laundry room. Hurry up before he wakes up. I didn't hit him that hard."
"Yes, ma'am," Toshiko squeaked before she grabbed the soldier's head and followed Francine down the hall, leaving her mop and bucket behind.
Slave Quarters No. 361
Bexley, Kent
Martha smiled tiredly at the dirty faces, trying very hard not to stare. There were far too many hungry looks here. The tea she drank now bubbled uncomfortably in her belly. How long had it been since any of these people had a warm cup of tea?
Her escort, Milligan, was doing rounds in his own fashion and reminded Martha of another doctor back in the hospital she had worked in. Milligan talked quietly among the adults, smiled kindly to the children and appeared more relaxed playing "doctor" than he was soldier.
"Davidson found a telegraph in the basement. The resistance must have used this place before," Milligan reported as he dropped down next to her on the stairs everyone was using as the sleeping area. "Thought he'd alert Torchwood about the lightning and where we are."
"Heard back from them?"
Milligan smirked. "Well, someone over there had a few choice words with Davidson about heading off to Bexley without them."
Martha chuckled.
"Said I would meet up with them after Docherty," Martha murmured. Something inside her twinged; she'd promised Ianto they would go up to the Valiant together.
"Why didn't you?"
Martha shrugged. "I need to do this by myself," she said. Martha picked a loose thread along the hem of her pants.
"Sounds lonely," Milligan commented.
Her shoulders rose and dropped again. "Safer this way."
"For who?"
Surprised, Martha looked over to Milligan. "Who do you think?"
Now Milligan shrugged. "I lost a lot of friends during all this. A lot of people I had to leave behind. There were times…it felt like it was better if I went alone. No more dying."
Martha blinked at Milligan and in an odd moment, it struck her that his eyes looked exceptionally kind despite everything around him. Martha tore her gaze away.
"So long as Saxon's here," Martha sighed. "I'm afraid there will always be dying."
Milligan kicked at the floor with a well-worn heel of his right boot. "True," Milligan exhaled.
Martha said nothing. She watched a little dark-haired boy curled under the arm of his mother as she coaxed him to drink from her ration cup of water. Even from here, Martha could see he had the brightest blue eyes when he looked up at his mother. It made her think of Jack all of the sudden. And that made her think about her family and the Doctor. She swallowed.
"So this Doctor…" Milligan began. "You ah…you two were very close, I take it?"
Martha's mouth quirked. "He offered to show me the world once." Time and space, actually. "I didn't think he meant literally though."
It seemed so long ago when it all sounded like a grand, sparkling adventure. Life in her flat, working in the hospital had felt so directionless and mundane then.
"No," Milligan agreed, "but he sounds like quite a…uh…well, a man? An alien?"
Martha shot him a smirk. "Alien. Does that bother you?"
"A little," Milligan admitted as he scratched his jaw, "I mean, Saxon's an alien too and he…" Milligan shook his head. "And you love this Doctor? Really?"
Admittedly, it wasn't what she had meant to say and probably silly of her to say, but after Texas, after all those bodies in South Africa, her recount of the Doctor became more personal. It felt like he was still with her that way. It made the nights easier to walk. It made sleeping during the day dreamless.
Martha grimaced and tried not to think about how disappointed Milligan looked.
"When's a good time to head out there?" Martha nodded towards the door.
After a moment of surprised silence, Milligan replied. "Four hours from now. That's when all the slaves are rounded up, all medical goes on the next convoy. In between, we can slip out unnoticed."
Martha tried to remember the layout of the village. "And then I head—What? North? West?"
"West. It'll probably take—" Milligan stopped. A look crossed his face. His eyes widened slightly.
"You're going out there. Alone."
Martha couldn't bring herself to lie to him. She turned back to the mother with her son. She thought about Leo now. Was he still with his family?
The soft curse by her ear made her look back.
"No point trying to stop you then?"
Martha smiled grimly. "Not really. And you won't impress me by trying either so save your breath, Milligan."
"Impress?" Milligan muttered. He scuffed his toe on the step. "Man took you to space. What's to impress?"
It took a lot to make her smile these days, but Martha's mouth twitched at Milligan's sullen expression that oddly reminded her of the Doctor. Martha nudged him with an elbow.
"I like Greek food though," Martha reminded him.
Milligan stared at her for a moment. To Martha's surprise, his ears pinked.
"Yeah," Milligan agreed as he grinned. He turned back to look at the hallways crowded with people. "There is that, I suppose."
Martha leaned against the railing and watched the people making bedding with worn coats and shirts. The resemblance to the silo was making her stomach clench. Martha thought about all those hopeful faces.
"You two should head back to Torchwood," Martha said suddenly when Creet's cheerful young face popped into her head. "They'll be needing help."
"They're not the only ones."
Martha gave him a sideways look. "I'll be fine. I'm Martha Jones, remember?"
Before Milligan could answer, there was a gasp that traveled all the way to the back of the stairs. Martha sat up higher as a woman stumbled through the crowd of people, her face white.
"It's him! It's him! Oh my God, it's him! It's the Master! He's here!"
Damn. Not here. Not with all these people.
The boy who was curled up against his mother hugged her arm.
"But he never comes to Earth!" another child cried out. "He never walks upon the ground!"
Martha gritted her teeth. Damn Docherty. Martha had hoped Saxon would meet her on the base, not here. Not with all these people here.
"Hide her!"
Others were agreeing, a rumble of fear, but for Martha this time, not for themselves. Hands nudged her higher up on the staircase.
Milligan was already pulling out his weapon, telling someone else to get Davidson. "Use this!"
A rough blanket was thrown over her as bodies huddled around her. Martha felt the trembling of many bodies pressed against her. She barely made out Milligan and Davidson by the door. They squatted by the door's mail slot.
"He walks among us," someone whimpered, "our lord and master."
"Martha. Martha Jones."
There he was. Martha gritted her teeth. The bastard.
"Sorry, I'm late! The air traffic has been horrendous!" Saxon sang out. "Out you come, little girl. Come and meet your master."
"Don't speak," a tiny voice advised. A little hand crept forward under the blanket to wrap around Martha's right hand. The hand was too small, it could only wrap around Martha's index and middle fingers.
"We'll protect you," the same little voice promised.
Martha squeezed the hand.
"Anybody? Nobody? No? Nothing?"
Martha tensed.
"Don't!" another voice pleaded.
"Positions! I'll give the order unless you surrender."
Under the bodies and blanket, she could see Davidson and Milligan shaking their heads towards her direction.
"Surely you're not going to hide? The heroic Martha Jones?"
Martha narrowed her eyes.
"I'll slaughter everyone. Everyone."
Martha clenched her fists and bit her lower lip. There were arms, frightened faces in front of her as Martha struggled to sit up.
"Stay here," someone whispered.
"Don't get up."
There was a sneer in Saxon's words that made her want to hit something.
"Ask yourself, young Martha Jones…what would the Doctor do?"
Martha shrugged off the blanket amidst the frantic whispering. She pulled the necklace that had guarded her for so long over her head. It didn't come off easily, catching on her hair as it looped over.
"What are you doing?"
"Don't go out there."
"Don't do it."
Martha touched everyone she could as she walked towards the door: a finger on a cheek, a stroke on a child's hair.
"Don't forget," Martha murmured as she passed and she was heartened to see them nod tearfully.
"Don't," Martha warned when Davidson and Milligan opened their mouths.
"Tell Torchwood," Martha told Davidson and it looked like he wanted to protest but at the last second, his mouth snapped shut and he nodded.
"Now," Martha stressed. At Davidson's shocked look, Martha added, "They need to know this now."
"Go," Milligan advised, throwing in a shove to Davidson's back until he reluctantly headed back for the basement.
Left standing with Milligan, Martha nodded at him, her mouth curved in a weak attempt to smile.
Milligan just handed her a gun.
"Close as I can get to him," Martha chuckled but there was little humor in it. She dropped the necklace in his hand. "Don't worry and don't try to—"
"Impress you, I know," Milligan interrupted. Then as if he was afraid of changing his mind, he leaned in and kissed Martha on the lips.
Martha blinked.
"Well…" It was the only thing Martha could think to say. She nodded again, glanced over her shoulder to the others and nodded to them as well before she slipped out the door.
Under the shadow of the other buildings, Martha was hidden from Saxon's view. He was seated on a chair, teacup in his hand, but Saxon wasn't drinking it. His cool eyes searched the dark until he spotted her.
"Oh, yes!" Porcelain shattered as Saxon shot up on his feet. He clapped and the armed guards around him gave him looks.
"Oh, very well done! Good girl! He trained you well." Saxon crooked a finger and bade her to come closer. Saxon eyed what she was carrying. He smirked.
"Now how did it go last time? Oh yes!" Saxon snapped his fingers at Martha. "Bag. Give me the bag."
The gun Milligan gave her weighed heavy in her vest. She took a step closer.
"No, stay there." Saxon took a step back. He pointed vaguely to the ground by him. "Just throw it."
Martha clenched her teeth. The guns pointed around her cocked loudly. She slowly, carefully slipped her pack off her shoulders then, without sudden moves, she threw the bag by his feet. Martha kept her eyes on the bag. She relaxed when it landed and she didn't hear the glass shatter.
Saxon stood there, his arms folded. He studied the bag with a tilt of his head.
Saxon smirked.
"A gun in four parts?" Saxon drawled. "Oh, but just short one more, child."
Ice settled in the pit of her stomach. What the hell?
"Any souvenirs?" Saxon unzipped her bag and with his screwdriver, rifled through everything. "No? Not even a wobbly hula girl dancer? Pity."
Martha held her breath as Saxon pulled out the case and tested the weight in his hand.
Not yet, Martha thought. Not yet.
"Well," Saxon said in a bright voice, "we won't be needing this." He tossed her pack away from him and shot it into bits with his laser screwdriver with a hard whine that made Martha flinch.
She didn't see Milligan dashing across the street, her necklace glimmering around his throat, a gun in his fist.
"No!" Milligan cried out just as he took aim for Saxon.
"Stop!" Martha wasn't sure if she was asking Milligan or Saxon, but another high-pitched whine and Milligan dropped without another sound.
Saxon chuckled. "Ah time…so predictable." Saxon crouched by Milligan's prone body. He tsked as he lifted the necklace off his body with the tip of his screwdriver.
"Did you neglect to tell him the perception filter doesn't work on me?"
Martha could only glare. Fury was lodged in her throat like a bone, choking her. She breathed heavily as the guards grabbed her by the arms, holding her back.
Gray eyes studied Martha. "Ah, there's a look I haven't seen before. Oh, the Doctor taught all of his Companions well."
With exaggeratedly slow steps, Saxon came up to her.
"Ooh. As you humans like to say: if looks could kill." Saxon nodded to the guards. "Search her." His eyebrow rose at the gun, but his eyes narrowed when there was nothing else.
"Your teleport device," Saxon demanded. He jabbed the screwdriver to her right shoulder. "Where is it?"
Martha clamped her mouth and looked past his shoulder.
"You had it with you before," Saxon muttered. "Why don't you have it now?"
Martha tensed. What was he talking about?
A look crossed Saxon's face. His eyes widened a little as he remembered something.
"She heard you mention Torchwood," Saxon murmured. He gave Martha a look.
Oh God, no, no, no, no, no!
The smirk Saxon wore made her ill. "So, they're here." Saxon shook his head.
Her heart was hammering, but Martha fought to not react.
"Children," Saxon called out loudly.
Three Toclafane blinked to float around them.
"Cardiff," Saxon commanded.
Without a word, the three winked out.
Martha twisted in the guards' hold.
"Oh, that got a reaction this time," Saxon sneered. He looked over to the other soldiers.
"Docherty said there were three of them. There's still one more in there."
"He already left!" Martha cried out as the armed men marched towards the building she had been in. "All they did was house me, give me a place to sleep!"
"While you told them about the Doctor?" Saxon snarled.
Martha froze.
"Kill them," Saxon snapped when he saw his guards hesitate. "Kill them all!"
"No!" Martha cried out as the door was kicked down.
The screaming. Oh God, the screaming.
"Saxon, you monster!" Martha kicked at him but the Master stepped neatly away.
"Not to worry, my dear," Saxon chuckled as he wagged his screwdriver at her. "You'll have your turn…But you…when you die, the Doctor should be witness, hm?" Saxon inhaled deeply. He tapped his fingers against his hip.
"Almost dawn, Martha," Saxon murmured to himself. "Soon, it'll be over for you and me. And planet Earth marches to war."
Torchwood, Cardiff
"Write faster," Gwen urged as the telegraph started up again. "Sack…no…Saxon! That's an X, you daft sod!"
"Stop yelling at me," Owen griped as he wrote out the letters. "I'm trying to concentrate. Lift that lamp higher."
"Timer's been set," Ianto reported as he climbed down the ladder. His lamp bobbed once as he steered for them.
"We're getting another message," Gwen said over her shoulder.
Gwen squinted when Ianto was suddenly there and the light hit her eyes. She blinked a few times.
"Again? So soon? What's Andy say? What's he say?"
"'Saxon her…her?' No, 'here. Saxon here'," Owen spelled out. He stiffened. "Shit."
"Damn," Gwen muttered. "Tell Andy to get Martha out of there—"
The telegraph was ticking again.
"'MJ went'—damn it!" Owen growled as he scribbled everything down as fast as he could.
"What?" Ianto asked tersely. "Owen, what is it?"
"Martha went out to Saxon," Owen replied, his words clipped as his hand continued to write.
"What?" Gwen grabbed Owen by the shoulder. "Why on earth—"
"'Get out'," Owen muttered.
"What did you say?" Gwen exclaimed.
Owen pointed to the telegraph.
"'Get out'," Owen read. "'Saxon knows about you. Get out now. Ge—'"
The telegraph silenced.
Gwen felt something sharp clawing up in her throat. "Owen?"
"What does it say?" Ianto pressed closer next to Gwen.
Bleak, Owen turned towards them both, his face white in the glow of the kerosene lamps.
"Nothing. It…it just stopped."
Suddenly, six of their perimeter alarms down in the vaults area screamed.
"Weevils?" Gwen said sharply. Whatever tears she was going to shed dried at the klaxons.
"Not unless it's a convention," Ianto muttered. He looked strange as he pulled back his sleeve to reveal Jack's wrist strap. "This is it. It has to be."
"Ianto?" Gwen tried to grab for Ianto when he bolted for the ladder. "Ianto!"
Gwen ignored the alarms as she ran up the ladder after him, Owen close behind. They reached the surface just in time to catch their packs being thrown at them.
"Now?" Owen said as he shrugged on one of the packs they made in preparation for the Valiant.
"Now?" Gwen nearly dropped the guns Owen shoved into her arms. "You…you mean up to the ship? Now?"
"Unless you want to stay here!" Ianto just said as he opened the laptop and began typing rapidly.
Gwen was grabbing a few more guns now, passing ammo clips to Owen. Her head was spinning. She thought they had more time. "What are you doing?"
"Five hundred ten megajoules. Andy said it was five hundred ten," Ianto muttered. "If I can bring up our maintenance systems up…"
"The Rift Manipulator," Gwen pointed at the column and the new thick cables coiled around it and into it.
"Timer should still be safe," Ianto shouted back. He needed to as the water sculpture began to flicker to life, lights glimmering faintly on the cracked mirror panels. The air crackled, making a growing high pitch noise.
"How the hell are you doing this?" Owen shouted. Owen upturned Jack's desk and together with Gwen shoved it to the door.
"Making a lightning rod! If I can just channel the residuals to a short burst of—"
"Oi! Too technical!" Owen exclaimed. "Just do it!"
"Jesus!" Gwen shrieked as what glass was left above in the hothouse exploded and a swarm of black zipped out from it and down from the water sculpture ruins.
"Those boards!" Owen ordered as he blocked the glass with the metal debris they used to hide the cables and laptops.
Gwen doubted it would work and already, as soon as they placed one up, something crashed into the thin corrugated metal, leaving a round dent and nearly sending Gwen to the floor.
"Four hundred!" Ianto declared.
That was an inhuman wail and more hollow metal thumps could be heard dropping to concrete.
"If we're leaving," Owen ground out as he shook where he stood, propping the boards up. "I suggest we do it right no—Shit!"
Spikes cut right through the board, barely missing Owen's eye.
"Owen!" Ianto said sharply.
"I'm okay."
Gwen could hear more sparks outside and more globes dropped.
"Switching on the Vortex Manipulator! Get over here!" Ianto shouted. "Four hundred forty megajoules!"
Mechanical shrieks mixed with the thundering of spiking electricity.
"Christ, it sounds like the place will blow," Owen swore. He grabbed Gwen by the shoulder as they joined Ianto by the couch. Already, the air was crackling around them. Gwen swore her hair was starting to stand on end.
"It will…sort of," Ianto said as he shouldered his pack. His wrist strap started wailing.
"What?"
"An EMP pulse! Except it could also affect…uh…living flesh, too."
"Where the hell did you get a stupid idea like that?"
"It was in Tosh's folder!"
"Guys!" Gwen gritted her teeth as she watched the metal barriers ripple and bubble with every collision. "Ianto, please tell me that thing is working!"
The boards burst as hundreds of globes exploded through metal and glass and wood. Gwen screamed. Owen shouted. Glass scored tiny lines of fire on Gwen's arms when she threw them up to shield her face. She felt Owen grab her left shoulder and Ianto clutched her right.
The laptop on the floor beeped. Five hundred ten.
There was a hum that grew louder and louder. Her skin buzzed, she saw blue sparks raining outside and a rain of black pearls just as the air split open behind them into a wide and red fiery yawn to swallow them up.
It was dark. Just long enough for Gwen to think she was dead. Long enough to wonder if it meant the others were dead, too.
Then…
It wasn't dark anymore.
"Not this again!"
Owen's outraged yelp was the first thing Gwen registered. The second thing was landing on something, no, someone.
An elbow poked her in the face.
"Get off. Get off," Owen muffled. "All you had were protein bars, how the bloody hell do you still weigh so much? Off."
Gwen rolled off and squinted at the metal all around her. This looked familiar. At least they didn't land on some occupied space.
Ianto groaned to her right. "I think one of your bony knees just stabbed me."
"Shut up, narco boy."
"You're lucky Gwen and I didn't snap your scrawny body in two—Oh God."
Gwen heard Ianto's voice cut into a strangled gasp. She raised her head, her hand waving in front of her as steam shot in front of her. When the haze cleared a little, Gwen gasped as well.
"Jack!"
Act VIII
Additional Notes: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.
Pairing: Jack/OMC, Jack/?, Jack/Ianto eventually, het and slash
Rating: NC-17
Summary: He left Jack on the game station. Abandoned. But then…he came back…different. An AU look on what happens if things happened differently. Doctor Who 'verse with Torchwood later on.
Warnings: Please read each chapter's individual warnings. Some parts down the road may briefly mention non-con, abuse, and/or violence. Dark in the beginning. Please note there are some dark thoughts as my boys are broken…for now. Each chapter will be labeled for your convenience.
Author's Notes: Note that "the Year That Never Was" was suggested that it wasn't fun. I took it as a challenge to somehow still find a way to instill comfort in it. If it didn't work, I'm sorry. I suck. LOL.
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
Warning For This Chapter: strong language, dark, angsty, VIOLENCE, torture (mostly implied, all a matter of reader interpretation), sappy maudlin
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are events/dialogue here that was referenced in DW's "Last of the Time Lords"
Prologue + Ch , Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36 Ch 37, Ch 38, Ch 39, Ch 40 1/11, Ch 40 2/11, Ch 40 3/11, Ch 40 4/11, Ch 40 5/11, Ch 40 6/11
Master Fic List: here
Chapter 40 "The Last of the Time Lords"
Act VII
Slave Quarters No. 361
Bexley, Kent
Bexley looked like every other town Martha had come across: stone streets swept clean of people, windows all boarded up and dark, the village silent as a cemetery.
Martha, her back against the outside wall of an abandoned church, her hands around a cup of tea from the thermos, watched the guards pace back and forth. Whatever Davidson had planned, hopefully it would be soon. Martha didn't like being out in the open for too long, necklace or not.
A quiet shuffle and the click of a tongue told Martha it was friend not foe approaching. She didn't move from her spot but did extend her mug to the newcomer.
"This used to be a street of nightclubs and restaurants," Milligan whispered. He sighed softly as he drank the last of the tea in her mug. He capped the thermos. Its dwindling contents sloshed in the battered container.
"Right there," Milligan nodded towards a short building with a tattered blue awning. "Best Greek I ever had."
"Oh," Martha muttered as she stared at the canvas flapping listlessly in the breeze. Se could make out a café table settled on its side, stripped of its metal legs. "I liked Greek food." She spared Milligan a brief smile. It felt too exhausting to try something broader. "Too bad."
Milligan gazed back at her, unblinking. Then he swallowed and looked away.
"Yeah," he murmured, "too bad."
A soft whistle drew their attention away from the street. Davidson, his face purposefully smudged with soot, hair covered in a black wool cap, smirked at them.
"Well?" Milligan asked. He passed the thermos to Davidson. "Still hot."
Davidson brightened and skips the mug when Martha nodded her head. Carefully, even when it looked like he wanted to slurp, Davidson drank.
"Well?" Milligan repeated impatiently.
Davidson, still drinking, held up his left hand. His thumb went down. Then his index. His middle. When he folded his pinky, completing the fist, a muffled explosion boomed in the distance. Suddenly guards, shouting and pointing, were running towards a distant plume of dark smoke.
"Okay," Davidson smacked his lips quietly as he lowered the thermos and handed it back to Martha with a crooked grin, "we can go in now."
Martha chuckled as Milligan gaped.
"How did—"
"Explosives." Davidson held up some frayed wires. He grinned. "Courtesy of Torchwood."
Milligan clapped Davidson on the shoulder. "Come on then," Milligan said as he nodded to the buildings across the street. "No Greek food, but I can at least get you two a bed."
Davidson scoffed as he trotted across the abandoned street. Martha merely shook her head and followed the two.
Valiant
Toshiko knew she shouldn't be doing this. This was stupid. Absolutely stupid.
The hallways were deserted due to the late night shift. Toshiko held the mop in her hand, dragging the bucket of soapy water behind her. She checked over her shoulder at every doorway she stopped in front of but so far the few soldiers left were too busy changing shifts. There were guards by the engine room, by the computer room and by the runaway. Everyone else had gone. Everyone else, with Saxon boarded a plane.
The plane left the Valiant just a few minutes ago.
Toshiko, while she was down on her knees, scrubbing the lavatories across the computers room, had heard the murmuring. There was a mix of pride from the recruited youth and defeat from the UNIT soldiers forced to work under Saxon. Both sets of voices were higher, faster in the face of the latest news.
Saxon had found Martha Jones.
The mop nearly clattered to the tiled floor when she had heard, but she held the handle tight to her face as she listened to the guards' young quavering voices outside the door.
Toshiko glanced to her left and right, but the changing of the guards hasn't happened yet for this floor. If she was going to do this, she needed to do this now.
With a deep breath, Toshiko wrapped her hand around the doorknob and turned it. She flinched at the quiet click. Heart hammering, Toshiko yanked the door open and darted quickly inside, cursing as her bucket sloshed loudly as it rolled in behind her.
The bridge was dark and quiet. Autopilot whirred timidly in the back of the room. All the lights were dim.
Toshiko scanned the room quickly but the tent Francine once described wasn't there. Just the conference table, the chairs, the stairs—
Oh.
Toshiko swallowed when she sighted the covered birdcage by the banister. She took a few steps towards it.
A scrap of brown rag was draped over the cage but she could hear stirring inside, rustling from something definitely larger than a bird. Toshiko reached for the cover, but drew her hand back. Toshiko held her right hand as she stared at the cage.
Toshiko really didn't want to pull the rag off. It was ridiculous though. She'd watched as Saxon turned that device on the Time Lord. She had seen what had been done. Toshiko bit her lower lip and reached for the cage again.
Only to jerk her hand back.
Damn, damn, damn. What was wrong with her? Come on, Sato. Chin up.
"It's all right."
Muffled, the tinny voice sounded like a sigh but even if it had lost the jubilant bass of before, Toshiko recognized it all the same.
"If it makes you feel better," the tiny voice spoke up again, "you can leave it on, Toshiko Sato. I don't mind."
Toshiko smiled sadly at the cloaked cage. She almost wished the knot in her throat didn't loosen at that. "Sorry. How did you know it was me?"
"You rushed in here like you didn't want to get caught and your mop bucket rattled." There was a tiny lilt of the confident Doctor still evident in his explanation. "You shouldn't be here, but since you are, I'm assuming there's an important reason for it."
"Saxon's gone to get Martha Jones!" Damn, she hadn't meant to say it like that.
There was a soft intake of breath inside and Toshiko suddenly had the irrational fear that she just given the nine hundred year old alien a heart attack.
"I see," the Doctor said hoarsely. "The device. Have you finished it?"
"It's done. I hid it—"
"Don't tell me. The fewer people who know, the better." The cage swayed, as there was more movement inside. "He's been waiting all this time. He knew where she would be. Just as I thought. He will bring her up here then."
Toshiko knitted her brow. "Doctor?"
"Saxon will want to bring Maratha here…to execute her on the telly...and in front of me."
Toshiko stiffened. "I'll find a way to contact my friends right now. The guards are all scattered, most of them are with Saxon. I—"
"Wait."
The voice was firm and stronger than before. Toshiko halted in her tracks.
"Let him bring her up here."
Toshiko spun around to the cage. "But—"
"It'll be all right. He'll wait until the rockets' countdown." There was a short laugh. "The Master has a thing about clocks."
Toshiko shifted from foot to foot. "What about the others?"
"Ianto Jones knows when to be here, not to worry," the Doctor assured her. "Don't concern yourself with that. I trust his instincts. Get up to those controls behind me. It's easier than trying to open the satellites system from the other room."
Toshiko found herself all the way up the stairs before the Doctor finished. She stared at the inactive terminal in dismay. Her hands fluttered weakly in the air in front of the console. "But I don't know the passwords for this terminal," she protested.
"I do." The Doctor gave a weary short laugh inside his prison. "All I hear is them clicking away up there everyday. Things tend to stick after a year of it."
"A year," Toshiko murmured as she sat down. She flexed her fingers and was startled to find her hands aching from months of hard labor. Has it really been a year?
The Doctor recited the password quickly to her then the lines of code once Toshiko hacked into the appropriate systems. In the empty bridge, Toshiko was very aware of time crawling on her skin like a snake coiling up her body. She kept checking the doors, kept jumping every time the ship trembled.
Hair on the back of her neck stuck to her collar as Toshiko typed as fast as she could. Her fingers kept missing the keys and she swore as she found herself slower than before.
"That's it?" Toshiko said skeptically when done. She stared at the console, feeling like she'd forgotten something.
"That's it."
"Just open up the Archangel network to also transmit to the ship?" It didn't make any sense. "I could try shutting down the signal to Earth or try to find Archangel's self-destruct."
The cage shook. "No, they would discover it too quickly. The Master has encrypted the systems so they can only send data, not receive. I've been trying to tune myself into the psychic network and integrate with its matrices but the Master has them blocked. He knew I would try. Any attempt and he'll know."
Toshiko stared at the terminal in dismay. She wanted to smash it to bits, damn what would happen to her.
"So…the people down there won't fight him then? All those people he enslaved?"
"Don't discount humanity yet. As powerful as the Master may seem to be, even a Time Lord, he is only just one," the Doctor said. The cage bobbed on its perch. "We can not destroy the satellites but with your equation and Jack, we're going to turn the Master's weapon to our favor."
Toshiko frowned. "Jack? But Francine said—"
"Never mind that. Just get that thing to Jack."
"But—"
"It'll be fine, Toshiko Sato."
The Doctor's voice had deepened to a syrupy lilt. Toshiko found herself nodding before she realized it. She reset the terminal to look like no one had been there and with a hurried step, she descended the stairs. Toshiko retrieved her mop, her bucket and was by the door when she paused. Toshiko glanced back to the cage. She took a step back towards the cage.
"Go," the Doctor said as if he could see her.
"Good luck," Toshiko whispered. It didn't feel strange to say it to him. She didn't wait for a reply and slipped out the door.
Toshiko was breathing heavily when she closed the door behind her. She straightened up and she gripped the mop firmly with shaky hands.
"Oi! What were you doing coming out of there?"
Bollocks.
Toshiko turned around slowly. Her heart sank when she saw it was one of the young men Saxon had recruited during his stint as minister. They tended to be too entrenched in their Master's spell to expect any help from them.
Eyes narrowed as they studied Toshiko then the door she had come out from. The assault rifle he held rose higher.
"No one's allowed in there," the soldier muttered. He looked at Toshiko up and down.
Toshiko gripped her mop tightly. "I went in by mistake." She tried to raise her voice to a quaver but the youth wasn't convinced.
"You're one of them Torchwood people, aren't you? The computer one?" The muzzle pointed at her heart now. "What were you—"
Thump.
Toshiko started and took a step back just as the soldier dropped face first to the floor, revealing a very stern looking Francine behind him, a dented tea tray in her hands high above her head.
"Francine!" Toshiko sighed in relief. She felt boneless now. "How'd you—"
"I heard about Martha. I was going to find the Doctor myself." Francine stared down at the body. "Good thing I did." She shot Toshiko an exasperated look.
"That was a foolish thing you did, child."
"Probably," Toshiko said meekly.
Francine rolled her eyes. She tucked the tray under her arm.
"Come on. You take his head, I'll grab his legs and you can tell me what the Doctor told you on the way to stuffing this lad in the laundry room. Hurry up before he wakes up. I didn't hit him that hard."
"Yes, ma'am," Toshiko squeaked before she grabbed the soldier's head and followed Francine down the hall, leaving her mop and bucket behind.
Slave Quarters No. 361
Bexley, Kent
Martha smiled tiredly at the dirty faces, trying very hard not to stare. There were far too many hungry looks here. The tea she drank now bubbled uncomfortably in her belly. How long had it been since any of these people had a warm cup of tea?
Her escort, Milligan, was doing rounds in his own fashion and reminded Martha of another doctor back in the hospital she had worked in. Milligan talked quietly among the adults, smiled kindly to the children and appeared more relaxed playing "doctor" than he was soldier.
"Davidson found a telegraph in the basement. The resistance must have used this place before," Milligan reported as he dropped down next to her on the stairs everyone was using as the sleeping area. "Thought he'd alert Torchwood about the lightning and where we are."
"Heard back from them?"
Milligan smirked. "Well, someone over there had a few choice words with Davidson about heading off to Bexley without them."
Martha chuckled.
"Said I would meet up with them after Docherty," Martha murmured. Something inside her twinged; she'd promised Ianto they would go up to the Valiant together.
"Why didn't you?"
Martha shrugged. "I need to do this by myself," she said. Martha picked a loose thread along the hem of her pants.
"Sounds lonely," Milligan commented.
Her shoulders rose and dropped again. "Safer this way."
"For who?"
Surprised, Martha looked over to Milligan. "Who do you think?"
Now Milligan shrugged. "I lost a lot of friends during all this. A lot of people I had to leave behind. There were times…it felt like it was better if I went alone. No more dying."
Martha blinked at Milligan and in an odd moment, it struck her that his eyes looked exceptionally kind despite everything around him. Martha tore her gaze away.
"So long as Saxon's here," Martha sighed. "I'm afraid there will always be dying."
Milligan kicked at the floor with a well-worn heel of his right boot. "True," Milligan exhaled.
Martha said nothing. She watched a little dark-haired boy curled under the arm of his mother as she coaxed him to drink from her ration cup of water. Even from here, Martha could see he had the brightest blue eyes when he looked up at his mother. It made her think of Jack all of the sudden. And that made her think about her family and the Doctor. She swallowed.
"So this Doctor…" Milligan began. "You ah…you two were very close, I take it?"
Martha's mouth quirked. "He offered to show me the world once." Time and space, actually. "I didn't think he meant literally though."
It seemed so long ago when it all sounded like a grand, sparkling adventure. Life in her flat, working in the hospital had felt so directionless and mundane then.
"No," Milligan agreed, "but he sounds like quite a…uh…well, a man? An alien?"
Martha shot him a smirk. "Alien. Does that bother you?"
"A little," Milligan admitted as he scratched his jaw, "I mean, Saxon's an alien too and he…" Milligan shook his head. "And you love this Doctor? Really?"
Admittedly, it wasn't what she had meant to say and probably silly of her to say, but after Texas, after all those bodies in South Africa, her recount of the Doctor became more personal. It felt like he was still with her that way. It made the nights easier to walk. It made sleeping during the day dreamless.
Martha grimaced and tried not to think about how disappointed Milligan looked.
"When's a good time to head out there?" Martha nodded towards the door.
After a moment of surprised silence, Milligan replied. "Four hours from now. That's when all the slaves are rounded up, all medical goes on the next convoy. In between, we can slip out unnoticed."
Martha tried to remember the layout of the village. "And then I head—What? North? West?"
"West. It'll probably take—" Milligan stopped. A look crossed his face. His eyes widened slightly.
"You're going out there. Alone."
Martha couldn't bring herself to lie to him. She turned back to the mother with her son. She thought about Leo now. Was he still with his family?
The soft curse by her ear made her look back.
"No point trying to stop you then?"
Martha smiled grimly. "Not really. And you won't impress me by trying either so save your breath, Milligan."
"Impress?" Milligan muttered. He scuffed his toe on the step. "Man took you to space. What's to impress?"
It took a lot to make her smile these days, but Martha's mouth twitched at Milligan's sullen expression that oddly reminded her of the Doctor. Martha nudged him with an elbow.
"I like Greek food though," Martha reminded him.
Milligan stared at her for a moment. To Martha's surprise, his ears pinked.
"Yeah," Milligan agreed as he grinned. He turned back to look at the hallways crowded with people. "There is that, I suppose."
Martha leaned against the railing and watched the people making bedding with worn coats and shirts. The resemblance to the silo was making her stomach clench. Martha thought about all those hopeful faces.
"You two should head back to Torchwood," Martha said suddenly when Creet's cheerful young face popped into her head. "They'll be needing help."
"They're not the only ones."
Martha gave him a sideways look. "I'll be fine. I'm Martha Jones, remember?"
Before Milligan could answer, there was a gasp that traveled all the way to the back of the stairs. Martha sat up higher as a woman stumbled through the crowd of people, her face white.
"It's him! It's him! Oh my God, it's him! It's the Master! He's here!"
Damn. Not here. Not with all these people.
The boy who was curled up against his mother hugged her arm.
"But he never comes to Earth!" another child cried out. "He never walks upon the ground!"
Martha gritted her teeth. Damn Docherty. Martha had hoped Saxon would meet her on the base, not here. Not with all these people here.
"Hide her!"
Others were agreeing, a rumble of fear, but for Martha this time, not for themselves. Hands nudged her higher up on the staircase.
Milligan was already pulling out his weapon, telling someone else to get Davidson. "Use this!"
A rough blanket was thrown over her as bodies huddled around her. Martha felt the trembling of many bodies pressed against her. She barely made out Milligan and Davidson by the door. They squatted by the door's mail slot.
"He walks among us," someone whimpered, "our lord and master."
"Martha. Martha Jones."
There he was. Martha gritted her teeth. The bastard.
"Sorry, I'm late! The air traffic has been horrendous!" Saxon sang out. "Out you come, little girl. Come and meet your master."
"Don't speak," a tiny voice advised. A little hand crept forward under the blanket to wrap around Martha's right hand. The hand was too small, it could only wrap around Martha's index and middle fingers.
"We'll protect you," the same little voice promised.
Martha squeezed the hand.
"Anybody? Nobody? No? Nothing?"
Martha tensed.
"Don't!" another voice pleaded.
"Positions! I'll give the order unless you surrender."
Under the bodies and blanket, she could see Davidson and Milligan shaking their heads towards her direction.
"Surely you're not going to hide? The heroic Martha Jones?"
Martha narrowed her eyes.
"I'll slaughter everyone. Everyone."
Martha clenched her fists and bit her lower lip. There were arms, frightened faces in front of her as Martha struggled to sit up.
"Stay here," someone whispered.
"Don't get up."
There was a sneer in Saxon's words that made her want to hit something.
"Ask yourself, young Martha Jones…what would the Doctor do?"
Martha shrugged off the blanket amidst the frantic whispering. She pulled the necklace that had guarded her for so long over her head. It didn't come off easily, catching on her hair as it looped over.
"What are you doing?"
"Don't go out there."
"Don't do it."
Martha touched everyone she could as she walked towards the door: a finger on a cheek, a stroke on a child's hair.
"Don't forget," Martha murmured as she passed and she was heartened to see them nod tearfully.
"Don't," Martha warned when Davidson and Milligan opened their mouths.
"Tell Torchwood," Martha told Davidson and it looked like he wanted to protest but at the last second, his mouth snapped shut and he nodded.
"Now," Martha stressed. At Davidson's shocked look, Martha added, "They need to know this now."
"Go," Milligan advised, throwing in a shove to Davidson's back until he reluctantly headed back for the basement.
Left standing with Milligan, Martha nodded at him, her mouth curved in a weak attempt to smile.
Milligan just handed her a gun.
"Close as I can get to him," Martha chuckled but there was little humor in it. She dropped the necklace in his hand. "Don't worry and don't try to—"
"Impress you, I know," Milligan interrupted. Then as if he was afraid of changing his mind, he leaned in and kissed Martha on the lips.
Martha blinked.
"Well…" It was the only thing Martha could think to say. She nodded again, glanced over her shoulder to the others and nodded to them as well before she slipped out the door.
Under the shadow of the other buildings, Martha was hidden from Saxon's view. He was seated on a chair, teacup in his hand, but Saxon wasn't drinking it. His cool eyes searched the dark until he spotted her.
"Oh, yes!" Porcelain shattered as Saxon shot up on his feet. He clapped and the armed guards around him gave him looks.
"Oh, very well done! Good girl! He trained you well." Saxon crooked a finger and bade her to come closer. Saxon eyed what she was carrying. He smirked.
"Now how did it go last time? Oh yes!" Saxon snapped his fingers at Martha. "Bag. Give me the bag."
The gun Milligan gave her weighed heavy in her vest. She took a step closer.
"No, stay there." Saxon took a step back. He pointed vaguely to the ground by him. "Just throw it."
Martha clenched her teeth. The guns pointed around her cocked loudly. She slowly, carefully slipped her pack off her shoulders then, without sudden moves, she threw the bag by his feet. Martha kept her eyes on the bag. She relaxed when it landed and she didn't hear the glass shatter.
Saxon stood there, his arms folded. He studied the bag with a tilt of his head.
Saxon smirked.
"A gun in four parts?" Saxon drawled. "Oh, but just short one more, child."
Ice settled in the pit of her stomach. What the hell?
"Any souvenirs?" Saxon unzipped her bag and with his screwdriver, rifled through everything. "No? Not even a wobbly hula girl dancer? Pity."
Martha held her breath as Saxon pulled out the case and tested the weight in his hand.
Not yet, Martha thought. Not yet.
"Well," Saxon said in a bright voice, "we won't be needing this." He tossed her pack away from him and shot it into bits with his laser screwdriver with a hard whine that made Martha flinch.
She didn't see Milligan dashing across the street, her necklace glimmering around his throat, a gun in his fist.
"No!" Milligan cried out just as he took aim for Saxon.
"Stop!" Martha wasn't sure if she was asking Milligan or Saxon, but another high-pitched whine and Milligan dropped without another sound.
Saxon chuckled. "Ah time…so predictable." Saxon crouched by Milligan's prone body. He tsked as he lifted the necklace off his body with the tip of his screwdriver.
"Did you neglect to tell him the perception filter doesn't work on me?"
Martha could only glare. Fury was lodged in her throat like a bone, choking her. She breathed heavily as the guards grabbed her by the arms, holding her back.
Gray eyes studied Martha. "Ah, there's a look I haven't seen before. Oh, the Doctor taught all of his Companions well."
With exaggeratedly slow steps, Saxon came up to her.
"Ooh. As you humans like to say: if looks could kill." Saxon nodded to the guards. "Search her." His eyebrow rose at the gun, but his eyes narrowed when there was nothing else.
"Your teleport device," Saxon demanded. He jabbed the screwdriver to her right shoulder. "Where is it?"
Martha clamped her mouth and looked past his shoulder.
"You had it with you before," Saxon muttered. "Why don't you have it now?"
Martha tensed. What was he talking about?
A look crossed Saxon's face. His eyes widened a little as he remembered something.
"She heard you mention Torchwood," Saxon murmured. He gave Martha a look.
Oh God, no, no, no, no, no!
The smirk Saxon wore made her ill. "So, they're here." Saxon shook his head.
Her heart was hammering, but Martha fought to not react.
"Children," Saxon called out loudly.
Three Toclafane blinked to float around them.
"Cardiff," Saxon commanded.
Without a word, the three winked out.
Martha twisted in the guards' hold.
"Oh, that got a reaction this time," Saxon sneered. He looked over to the other soldiers.
"Docherty said there were three of them. There's still one more in there."
"He already left!" Martha cried out as the armed men marched towards the building she had been in. "All they did was house me, give me a place to sleep!"
"While you told them about the Doctor?" Saxon snarled.
Martha froze.
"Kill them," Saxon snapped when he saw his guards hesitate. "Kill them all!"
"No!" Martha cried out as the door was kicked down.
The screaming. Oh God, the screaming.
"Saxon, you monster!" Martha kicked at him but the Master stepped neatly away.
"Not to worry, my dear," Saxon chuckled as he wagged his screwdriver at her. "You'll have your turn…But you…when you die, the Doctor should be witness, hm?" Saxon inhaled deeply. He tapped his fingers against his hip.
"Almost dawn, Martha," Saxon murmured to himself. "Soon, it'll be over for you and me. And planet Earth marches to war."
Torchwood, Cardiff
"Write faster," Gwen urged as the telegraph started up again. "Sack…no…Saxon! That's an X, you daft sod!"
"Stop yelling at me," Owen griped as he wrote out the letters. "I'm trying to concentrate. Lift that lamp higher."
"Timer's been set," Ianto reported as he climbed down the ladder. His lamp bobbed once as he steered for them.
"We're getting another message," Gwen said over her shoulder.
Gwen squinted when Ianto was suddenly there and the light hit her eyes. She blinked a few times.
"Again? So soon? What's Andy say? What's he say?"
"'Saxon her…her?' No, 'here. Saxon here'," Owen spelled out. He stiffened. "Shit."
"Damn," Gwen muttered. "Tell Andy to get Martha out of there—"
The telegraph was ticking again.
"'MJ went'—damn it!" Owen growled as he scribbled everything down as fast as he could.
"What?" Ianto asked tersely. "Owen, what is it?"
"Martha went out to Saxon," Owen replied, his words clipped as his hand continued to write.
"What?" Gwen grabbed Owen by the shoulder. "Why on earth—"
"'Get out'," Owen muttered.
"What did you say?" Gwen exclaimed.
Owen pointed to the telegraph.
"'Get out'," Owen read. "'Saxon knows about you. Get out now. Ge—'"
The telegraph silenced.
Gwen felt something sharp clawing up in her throat. "Owen?"
"What does it say?" Ianto pressed closer next to Gwen.
Bleak, Owen turned towards them both, his face white in the glow of the kerosene lamps.
"Nothing. It…it just stopped."
Suddenly, six of their perimeter alarms down in the vaults area screamed.
"Weevils?" Gwen said sharply. Whatever tears she was going to shed dried at the klaxons.
"Not unless it's a convention," Ianto muttered. He looked strange as he pulled back his sleeve to reveal Jack's wrist strap. "This is it. It has to be."
"Ianto?" Gwen tried to grab for Ianto when he bolted for the ladder. "Ianto!"
Gwen ignored the alarms as she ran up the ladder after him, Owen close behind. They reached the surface just in time to catch their packs being thrown at them.
"Now?" Owen said as he shrugged on one of the packs they made in preparation for the Valiant.
"Now?" Gwen nearly dropped the guns Owen shoved into her arms. "You…you mean up to the ship? Now?"
"Unless you want to stay here!" Ianto just said as he opened the laptop and began typing rapidly.
Gwen was grabbing a few more guns now, passing ammo clips to Owen. Her head was spinning. She thought they had more time. "What are you doing?"
"Five hundred ten megajoules. Andy said it was five hundred ten," Ianto muttered. "If I can bring up our maintenance systems up…"
"The Rift Manipulator," Gwen pointed at the column and the new thick cables coiled around it and into it.
"Timer should still be safe," Ianto shouted back. He needed to as the water sculpture began to flicker to life, lights glimmering faintly on the cracked mirror panels. The air crackled, making a growing high pitch noise.
"How the hell are you doing this?" Owen shouted. Owen upturned Jack's desk and together with Gwen shoved it to the door.
"Making a lightning rod! If I can just channel the residuals to a short burst of—"
"Oi! Too technical!" Owen exclaimed. "Just do it!"
"Jesus!" Gwen shrieked as what glass was left above in the hothouse exploded and a swarm of black zipped out from it and down from the water sculpture ruins.
"Those boards!" Owen ordered as he blocked the glass with the metal debris they used to hide the cables and laptops.
Gwen doubted it would work and already, as soon as they placed one up, something crashed into the thin corrugated metal, leaving a round dent and nearly sending Gwen to the floor.
"Four hundred!" Ianto declared.
That was an inhuman wail and more hollow metal thumps could be heard dropping to concrete.
"If we're leaving," Owen ground out as he shook where he stood, propping the boards up. "I suggest we do it right no—Shit!"
Spikes cut right through the board, barely missing Owen's eye.
"Owen!" Ianto said sharply.
"I'm okay."
Gwen could hear more sparks outside and more globes dropped.
"Switching on the Vortex Manipulator! Get over here!" Ianto shouted. "Four hundred forty megajoules!"
Mechanical shrieks mixed with the thundering of spiking electricity.
"Christ, it sounds like the place will blow," Owen swore. He grabbed Gwen by the shoulder as they joined Ianto by the couch. Already, the air was crackling around them. Gwen swore her hair was starting to stand on end.
"It will…sort of," Ianto said as he shouldered his pack. His wrist strap started wailing.
"What?"
"An EMP pulse! Except it could also affect…uh…living flesh, too."
"Where the hell did you get a stupid idea like that?"
"It was in Tosh's folder!"
"Guys!" Gwen gritted her teeth as she watched the metal barriers ripple and bubble with every collision. "Ianto, please tell me that thing is working!"
The boards burst as hundreds of globes exploded through metal and glass and wood. Gwen screamed. Owen shouted. Glass scored tiny lines of fire on Gwen's arms when she threw them up to shield her face. She felt Owen grab her left shoulder and Ianto clutched her right.
The laptop on the floor beeped. Five hundred ten.
There was a hum that grew louder and louder. Her skin buzzed, she saw blue sparks raining outside and a rain of black pearls just as the air split open behind them into a wide and red fiery yawn to swallow them up.
It was dark. Just long enough for Gwen to think she was dead. Long enough to wonder if it meant the others were dead, too.
Then…
It wasn't dark anymore.
"Not this again!"
Owen's outraged yelp was the first thing Gwen registered. The second thing was landing on something, no, someone.
An elbow poked her in the face.
"Get off. Get off," Owen muffled. "All you had were protein bars, how the bloody hell do you still weigh so much? Off."
Gwen rolled off and squinted at the metal all around her. This looked familiar. At least they didn't land on some occupied space.
Ianto groaned to her right. "I think one of your bony knees just stabbed me."
"Shut up, narco boy."
"You're lucky Gwen and I didn't snap your scrawny body in two—Oh God."
Gwen heard Ianto's voice cut into a strangled gasp. She raised her head, her hand waving in front of her as steam shot in front of her. When the haze cleared a little, Gwen gasped as well.
"Jack!"
Act VIII
Additional Notes: Many thanks to
soullessminion for betaing this chapter. And trtmx for her magic trick that saved my sanity! LOL.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-01-08 07:01 pm (UTC)I think the others would mind though. :D
Thank you for coming out of lurking to share your comments. They were very welcomed indeed!