Author: Milady Dragon
Pairing(s): JackHarkness/Ianto Jones, Toshiko Sato/Kathy Swanson, Owen Harper/Diane Holmes, Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Martha Jones/Tom Milligan, Phil Coulson/Clint Barton, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Warnings: Language, Violence, Angst, Temporary Character Death (It's Jack), Perceived Character Death, Minor Character Death.
Spoilers: Thru S2, E13, "Fragments" and "Exit Wounds", the audio play "Lost Souls" for Torchwood, S4, E12 and E13, "The Stolen Earth" and "Journey's End" for Doctor Who. Slight spoilers for the movie, "Iron Man"
Disclaimer: I don't own Torchwood, I would have treated it better. Don't own Doctor Who, Sarah Jane Adventures, or the Marvel Cinematic Universe, either
Author's Note: Here it is, the Dragon-Verse version of "Stolen Earth" and "Journey's End".
A/N2: Second chapter today.
Summary: The Earth has been stolen. There are twenty-six other planets in the sky. The Daleks are raining death down from the sky. It's the end of the world.
30 April 2009
“You know,” the dragon addressed the screen, “you can’t just let anyone in, even if they are a friendly intelligence.”
“You talking to the monitor?” Patrick asked from just behind him.
To Ianto’s credit, he didn’t jump at the sudden presence.
“Mainframe,” he answered, as if speaking to Torchwood’s computer was an everyday occurrence.
Well, for Toshiko, it was. Only she used intricate lines of code to get her messages across.
“Apparently, she’s letting strange computers into her system,” he went on. He turned his chair. “I think you might want to speak to your uncle about disseminating Torchwood files to civilians. One Tony Stark, to be precise.”
Patrick’s eyebrows ascended toward his hairline. “My Uncle Phil? The man who keeps more secrets than the Mona Lisa’s smile? That Uncle Phil?” His tone was so incredulous it brought a smirk to Ianto’s face.
“I’m sure he didn’t actually tell Stark we were the ones who passed along the information on the Daleks,” the dragon allowed. “However, Stark’s A.I. was able to back trace to us. Which was rather impressive, I thought.”
Patrick shrugged. “I’m sure he was hoping that Stark would be able to come up with something we could use to fight the Daleks. But I’ll mention it to him.”
Ianto waved it off. “I think we have more important things at the moment, and if Stark really can invent us a weapon of some sort – “
And with that, the world tilted.
The dragon would have fallen off the chair if not for Patrick, but he didn’t even register the American’s hiss of pain as he took on Ianto’s weight to keep him from hitting the floor.
Neither did he hear his teammate shout for help. He was too busy trying to stay conscious.
Something was seriously wrong with the planet. Ianto could hear it screaming in his mind, wiping away his awareness of anything but the agony of the world he was connected to. Green flame licked across his vision, obscuring everything in a sickly verdant haze that engulfed him like the thickest of pea soup fogs.
His nerves were burning as well, a St Elmo’s fire coruscating along his human skin and deep into his bones, passing through him from the centre of the Earth. Not only was the planet screaming, he was as well, ripping from his throat with an inhuman roar that he was barely aware of making.
He could feel hands on him, but that very touch sent bright flares of pain through him, and he fought to get free. Was someone yelling at him? He couldn’t tell, not with the mental discordance in his head, drowning out everything but his own anguish and the Earth’s.
Eventually, though, the Earth settled, and Ianto came back to himself little by little. The overhead lighting was too strong, and he winced away from him, little needles of discomfort stabbing deep into his eyes. His entire body felt wrung out and was throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and it was obvious that he was flat on his back on the floor of the Hub, the hard concrete cold through the material of his shirt. His throat felt raw, and it hurt to swallow.
At least he hadn’t transformed into his true form, because the way he was feeling Ianto seriously doubted he would have been able to change back. Plus, he didn’t even want to consider the damage he might have done to the Hub and his teammates.
The light was blocked out by a very worried Rhys, who was leaning over him, a bottle of water in his hand. “Take a drink,” he instructed, tucking a hand under Ianto’s head and helping him to manoeuvre just enough so he wouldn’t spill it all over himself.
The water felt heavenly going down. Rhys let him relax back, and this time his head was pillowed on someone’s knees. A wisp of blonde hair let him know just who was letting him use them as a cushion. Cool fingers stroked across his forehead, and Ianto sighed at the comfort it instilled.
“What happened?” he managed to croak.
“No idea,” Rhys answered. “But whatever the hell it was, it affected both you and Tosh. She’s in worse shape than you are, though.” He shivered slightly. “She was bleeding from her ears…”
“According to the readings,” Patrick’s voice said from somewhere nearby, “there was an intense burst of energy from all the planets, channelled toward the Dalek space station. No idea what it was for, but mainframe said it was a single string of highly charged z-neutrinos…whatever the hell that is.”
No, Ianto didn’t know either. As worried as he was for Toshiko, he really wished she was able to interpret what the scanners were saying and to translate for those who weren’t so scientifically knowledgeable.
The dragon struggled to sit up, needing to check on the rest of the team. “OI, Dragon Boy!” Owen snapped, appearing from out of nowhere and looking totally annoyed. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He really wished he could just collapse back onto the floor, but Ianto was the Second, and he couldn’t afford the luxury of wallowing in the little bursts of agony that flared throughout his body as he moved. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he answered, his voice a growl that sounded more like what came from his dragon form than his human.
“It looks like you’re being an idiot,” the medic snarked.
“Is that your medical opinion?”
“Damn straight it is!”
Ianto didn’t have his usual patience where Owen Harper was concerned, and he let his anger show as he snarled, “I do not have time to indulge you, Dr Harper. We are in the midst of an invasion and being flat on my back isn’t in the agenda for today. So, I suggest you either take a step back, or help me up.”
Owen’s eyes went wide, and he did step back in surprise. Ianto felt a bit guilty at letting his bad mood get the better of him. He was more afraid than he had been in a long time, and he was taking it out on the man who was actually concerned about his well-being, even if he was crap at showing it.
“And if you collapse again?” Owen asked acerbically. “We’re the ones who have to carry your heavy arse to the medical bay.”
Ianto could tell he was scrambling to cover his worry – and a little hurt, if the flash in his dark eyes was any indication – by being rude even as he was pointing out that the dragon wasn’t exactly in the best of shape. He let the man get away with it, because Owen did have a point: whatever the Daleks were doing to the planet could very easily incapacitate him again, and there wasn’t a damned thing they could do to stop it from happening.
And, next time, it could be worse.
Ianto sighed. “I know, Owen,” he capitulated…at least, a little. “But I can’t let that stop me from doing my job.”
The medic relaxed a little, probably due to Ianto’s conciliatory tone. “Well, you’ve always been a stubborn bastard,” he commented. “There’s nothing medically I can do about that.” He jabbed his finger toward Ianto. “But if it happens again I’m sedating you and you will like it. Understood?”
Ianto pretended not to hear the silent when it happens again that he knew Owen was thinking. “Understood.” Each and every one of them was concerned for him, and for Toshiko, and he loved them for it. “But until that does happen I’m going to get on with it, alright?”
“Fine.” Owen threw up his hands, more for show than to communicate his actual disdain for the entire situation. Then he reached down, grabbed one of the dragon’s outstretched hands, and pulled him up, with a little help from Rhys and Deborah. Owen gave a little grunt, and Ianto was instantly worried that he might have exacerbated his medic’s injury, but he knew better than to bring attention to it. Owen would just deny it.
“What about Toshiko?” he asked when he felt himself steady enough to stand on his own, which wasn’t doing his head any good. He thought about asking for a painkiller but decided against it, not wanting to be any muzzier than he already was.
He glanced over at the sofa. Toshiko was curled up under a blanket, and she was trembling even though she was obviously unconscious. Her face was sheet white, lashes black against her cheeks, and tear tracks painted her skin…only they were a faint reddish colour, as if her tears had had blood mixed in with the salt water.
“It’s bad,” Owen murmured. He raked a hand through his hair. “And I can only assume what the other Great Dragon Friends were going through.”
“It might not be quite as bad with them as it is with Toshiko,” the dragon replied. “They aren’t quite as connected to the Earth as she is. But, I know they have to be suffering.”
Ianto wanted nothing more than to go to each one of them, to protect them from what was being done to their planet, but he couldn’t leave the Hub. Not only would he run the risk of meeting up with the Daleks, but he wasn’t feeling well enough to drive anywhere, let alone fly. And, in the air, he’d be a hard target for the Dalek ships.
“This needs to be over.” Deborah’s hand rested on Ianto’s arm.
He looked at her. Her face was resolute. He was so very proud of her for it.
“Yes, it does,” the dragon agreed.
He just wasn’t certain how they were going to achieve that goal.