Torchwood 2: Hell Hath No Fury, part 2

[denacacra.livejournal.com]

 Title: Torchwood 2: Hell Hath No Fury, part 2

Spoilers: CoE

Characters: Janto, Martha Jones and mention of Owen Harper and Gwen Cooper/Williams. RTD owns them. All other characters are my own - some of them have been for the last 20+ years - and I promise that I take care of my own

Genre: Gwenless fix-it fiction for CoE via Torchwood 2. 

Rating: this is 15 probably for some bad language. It’ll go up to 18 later as it will have adult content later, but nothing yet.

beta'd by janiemc and kelticbanshee 

 

 

Martha followed Innes and Jude down into the Vaults. At the foot of the stairway, the air, for a moment or so, became still and dusted and filled with age and death, but then Innes Gilhazie shoved open the metal door which barred any further ingress, and led the others into the Vaults.

‘Here we are. Home sweet home. Don’t worry. It’s air conditioned down here. That sense of choking you get at the bottom of the stairs’ll  go in a minute,’ he said, throwing the folders down on to a large wooden desk. It had seen kinder days, but it was in impressive piece of furniture, darkly polished, and scattered with folders, mugs and wiring for two lap tops. There was a large white paper bag centred on it. Innes peeped inside, and he smiled, for the first time in Martha’s presence. It was a wild, bright smile, which, for a moment, made him appear almost frightening.

‘Arthur! Arthur! Are you in here? Has Java Boy been?’

Martha turned around, as if following the echoing call. She saw that there were four ways out of the room, all apparently whitewashed and rough walled, just as the room she was standing in was.

‘Sure has. Can you tell?’ replied a voice, as another man strolled out of one of the tunnels.

‘These are the Vaults,’ whispered Jude. ‘They go on for miles. Under the Old Town. It’s basically what there was of the city in the past. Just built on. We’ve got eight of them. Plus two for archiving. And Innes has two just now.’

‘No need to whisper, Jude,’ said the newcomer. ‘We all know the facts. And I can hear you.’

‘This is Dr Martha Jones,’ said Innes Gilhazie. ‘Dr Jones,’

‘Martha. Martha’ll do. For now.’

‘Martha. This is Arthur Stone. Another member of Torchwood Two. And its current co-financier.’

Martha frowned.

‘Don’t I know you? I’m sure I do.’

‘He’s a games designer. Has his own company. Very successful. Occasionally plastered over some magazine’s cover. Hiding in plain sight so to speak.’

‘You missed out handsome. Debonair. Desirable.’

‘And bloody dangerous. You’re only desirable if you do that thing with your eyes. So don’t,’ interrupted Innes, sharply. ‘Where’s your pal?’

‘I told him Jude was working tonight and he’s nipped back to his car to get her prezzie. What did he get you?’

‘You mean you didn’t look?’ Innes seemed surprised.

‘No. Was too busy admiring my own stuff.’

Martha frowned. None of them seemed overly concerned about a stranger being within their offices. She was also aware that there seemed to be no tension among them, as if each knew their place within the set-up, and more importantly, knew everyone else’s.

Innes grinned his wild smile again, as he decanted the contents of the bag: Turkish cigarettes, Celebes Colossi coffee beans, and a ragged copy of some book.

‘Told you about the coffee elite,’ muttered Jude.

‘What’s the book?’ asked Arthur.

‘Another copy of The Secret Commonwealth. Annotated. Good lad,’ said Innes, sitting himself down in a worn wood and leather chair. ‘What did you get, Arthur?’

‘Tokaj. And some interesting reading of my own. Not on subject,’ grinned Arthur. He turned his gaze to Martha and just for a moment, she felt her entire being slope towards him. She breathed in a great gasp and steadied herself against the desk as he turned back to examining the cigarettes.

‘Stop it,’ ordered Innes, without looking up.

‘Christ. These’ll kill you if nothing else does,’ laughed Arthur. ‘They’re wicked bad things.’

‘Well. I’ll go easy. Now. Martha. Let’s get you a seat. Jude. Get some of these beans ground up please. And we can fill Martha in with whatever else she’d like to ask.’

While Jude took away the coffee beans, Martha sat in silence. She stared at the two men before her.

‘And you’ll answer what you can.’

‘Aye. If we can,’ confirmed Innes.

‘Right then. This man. Forty four. What happened to him? And what happened to the forty three before him. And how can you just list people like that?’

‘There has been. Activity. Concerning the people who were buried after Thames House. Those that were cremated. They remain as they are. Not even the Sidhe can work with ash in the air. But those that were buried. Started coming back.’

‘What? Like the living dead? Like zombies.’

‘No. Like living humans. You see. While the 456’s demands weren’t very well received by the Scottish Parliament, the result was taken even more badly by the Sidhe and their queen.’

Martha shook her head.

‘No. It was ten percent. Of Britain.’

‘Well. For us, the Scottish Parliament decided that meant England and Wales. We don’t have SATS tests. Or league tables. So the Parliament decided that they couldn’t help. Plus it would’ve taken too long to get kids down to the  designated areas. Thank Christ. And as for the injection shite. If it’s not been passed by the SMC, it’s not happening North of the Border. But the Sidhe don’t operate within our Borders. And the queen went mental when the dead of Thames House came to her attention. Not amused. Not amused at all.’

Innes shifted restlessly in his chair and ran his hands over his face.

‘You see. We have spent years. Decades. Persuading her away from her tithe demands. The Sidhe demanded a human tithe every seven years. Fifty years ago, we. Torchwood Two. Got her to agree to stop it. But she perceived that the 456 received a tiend. And she wasn’t having it. She was not having those souls given over to another force.’

‘But they didn’t get the tithe,’ argued Martha. ‘They didn’t get the children.’

‘No. You don’t understand. The Sidhe count the tithe in souls. And the 456. In their eyes. Got souls. All the souls in Thames House that they killed. And then these people were laid to rest. In the ground. What she sees as her ground. So she is having them removed and returned. Brought back to life. And sent back into the world. It’s her response to the Sky Burners’ demands. She calls the 456 the Sky Burners.’

‘But isn’t that good?’ asked Martha, instinctively.

‘It’s been six months or so. How can that be good? We’ve had suicides. We’ve had people finding that the love of their lives upped and married someone else within months. Within weeks in one case. Two are in secure units so far. It’s a mess. That’s not to mention the complications with life insurance policies and the like.’

‘But how do you know Ianto Jones is next.’

‘They are pulling them out in the order that they were buried. We realised that after the first half dozen or so. He’ll be next.’

‘He’s no relation. Is he?’ asked Jude, returning with coffee for everyone.

Martha smiled. 

‘No. Not at all. But. God. I want him safe.’

There was an echoed clattering, which reverberated for a minute or so.

‘Ah. The return of Java boy,’ said Arthur Stone, looking around.

Another man entered the main Vault. He was smaller than both Innes and Arthur - Martha put him at around five feet nine - but his hair was as dark as the games designer’s. He was lean and sparely built, and it made Martha wonder if any of the men here ate properly. He smiled at Martha, grinned broadly at Jude, and lobbed at package at her.

‘Here you go, Jude. Marzipan. The ones you like. Who are you?’ he asked, returning his gaze to Martha.

‘This is Doctor Martha Jones. UNIT,’ said Innes.

‘Are you really? I’m Gavin. You here for a tour or are you trying to take over. Because. Trust me on this. It isn’t worth it. No alien tech to mess with your headspace. Just a backlog of filing and general chaos. And Innes yelling at whoever he likes. D’you get your coffee an’ cigs?’

‘Aye. Thanks Gav I did. And if you want any of either, try and be nice.’

It occurred to Martha that Innes had relaxed notably now that the three others were in his presence. Perhaps it was knowledge of the presence of his team, perhaps it was the beginning of some acceptance of her own presence. The man’s entire body language had become less tense. 

The latecomer hauled a chair over to Innes’ desk, then glanced around at the others. Jude raised her mug.

‘It’s fresh. It’s what you brought. Go and get some.’

‘How long will it be until you take charge of ...’

‘Number forty five?’ asked Arthur Stone.

‘Ianto Jones. He’s got a name. They’ll all have names,’ Martha rebuked him.

Innes ignored the comment.

‘Don’t know. Let’s see. He was. Buried in Cardiff. Odd in itself. But I guess your lot didn’t want to take responsibility. And if the cryo units are damaged. I guess there was nowhere to put him down there. So they gave him back to his family. And they buried him. Which means he’ll be hauled out of his final resting place any time now.’

‘Have you tried talking to her majesty about this, Innes?’ asked Gavin, returning to the group.

‘No. There’s no talking to her about it. We will just have to keep dealing with the fallout. Don’t move those papers!’ he ordered, as Gavin went to push a pile of folders to one side. ‘I don’t want them falling over.’

‘This is Innes’ filing system. It’s quaint insofar that only he knows where anything is. I think he’s scared that Arthur will try for a coup.’

‘Not happening,’ laughed Arthur. ‘I’m not being sexually molested by the FQ.’

Innes glared at him.

‘No one is.’

‘Say that again,’ agreed Gavin. ‘And you can count me out with any practical help. I’ve just spent  days listening to wailing and screaming. My ear drums are battered. And my backside’s sore. With sitting down,’ he added, noting Arthur’s wicked grin.

‘Sure it’s with sitting down, Gav?’

‘Yep,’ came the bland response.

‘Your boss not trying it on?’

‘Nope.’

‘Here’s one for you, Martha,’ said Arthur, turning his attention on to her. ‘Have you had a boss that just ups and whisks you away at a moment’s notice. All expenses paid?’

Martha smiled.

‘You know? Yeah. Yeah, I did.’

‘I lost a bet. That’s all. And Wagner was the forfeit.’

‘Didn’t have to be in Germany.’

‘He was going anyway. Said it had to be done. And I couldn’t keep knocking it if I had never experienced it.’

‘What are you talking about?’ asked Martha, suddenly.

‘Opera. So. I had to go. And now. If you put me near any of those beasts that shriek or howl my frontal lobes’ll burst. Splat. All over the inside of my skull. So count me out. I have a normal life. And a normal job. Out there. And I’m keeping it.’

‘We’re still dealing with what is being brought in. Number forty four. Jonathan Aldridge. Killed himself. We will have to re-inter him. At least help with that.’

‘Have you still got lairs in the forest burial site?’ asked Gavin.

‘Yes. We have exactly sixty two left. In various sites,’ said Arthur. ‘Mr Aldridge had a humanist interment. So that’s easier than most.’

‘He’ll get buried again? Will. She. This. Woman. Accept that?’ asked Martha.

‘Oh. If the 456 don’t have his soul she doesn’t care. They aren’t kind, the Sidhe. They just want everything their own way. Now, listen Martha Jones. Torchwood. All the Torchwoods. Have always been the epitome of the autonomous collective. We know about each other. But we have always kept each other at arms’ length. And everybody else.  I think this may have to change. We will keep you informed. But I don’t want you phoning here. Give us your numbers. And if and when Ianto Jones is brought to us, we’ll let you know. Once we know how he is. Dead. Alive. Or any point between.’

 

Comments

[wanda1969.livejournal.com]

I really like this! And the second part is up so quickly! Great!

[zen_raven.livejournal.com]

Why. Are your. Characters talking like. This. ?.

Use commas, ellipses, dashes - SOMETHING other than periods if you are trying to create dramatic pauses. You're making MELOdramatic pauses. Or all of your characters are asthmatics who can't complete a sentence without stopping for breath. It's seriously getting in the way of the readability of what is turning out to be a quite nice story.

[janiemc.livejournal.com]

Hi,
as one of the Betas and a native to the area where this is set, I hate to have to say it, but we do tend to have a somewhat stop start speech pattern rather than sentences or phrases running out of steam, which is fairly well reflected in this piece and its punctuation. Also having beta'd well beyond this point the background to these characters will reveal why for 2 in particular they have an almost exaggerated version of this pattern. Ianto is not the only one who has been traumatised in this tale.
It is up to you wether you stick with it, personally I would (but then I know where this is going).