#everyone is silently judging Ianto

[the-torchwood-archive]

From TWM #8, it's part one of Harm's Way.

Since there was some interest in me sharing my collection, I thought I'd start with one of the first short stories and one of my favourites. Which is odd, considering Trevor Baxendale wrote one of my least favourite novels. Judging by The Undertaker's Gift, he's a big supporter of Jack/Gwen so it's interesting that he wrote a Rhys/Gwen focused story.

Full text is under the cut. This was a quick transcription, so please let me know if you find any errors.

The Torchwood SUV pulled up with a screech of brakes and Captain Jack Harkness climbed out. ‘Came as fast as I could,’ he said with a grin.

‘No news there, then,’ said Ianto Jones. He was standing on the lawn of a neat semi-detached bungalow, squinting in the sun as it reflected off the SUV’s paintwork.

Jack took off his sunglasses as he strolled over, ‘Ok, Fun Boy, what gives?’

‘You’d best have a look yourself. Tosh is in the back checking it over.’

‘What about the people?’ Jack asked as he strode up the garden path.

‘I sent them next door. The neighbours are providing tea and sympathy. It’s that kind of area.’

‘It’s a sunny day. Everyone’s nice on a sunny day.’

Jack pushed open the gate at the side of the house and Ianto followed him down a shady passage into the back garden. It wasn’t too large, a meticulously cut lawn and some well-tended flower beds. Not the kind of garden kids played in, so this was unlikely to be a prank.

Toshiko Sato was already there, examining the artefact with a portable scanner. If artefact was the right word, it was really still just a thing, but that sounded so unprofessional.

It was pretty big, at least two meters long, a meter wide, shaped like a loaf of bread. In fact the surface looked, at first glance, just like a crust – until you realized it was translucent, like amber. The midday sun sparkled like gold coins scattered across the top.

‘It sinks,’ said Jack, wafting the air away from his nose.

‘I think it’s the heat,’ said Toshiko straightening up, ‘We need to get it somewhere cool.’

‘Okay,’ Jack nodded, ‘Owen’s on his way with a van. He’ll be here in ten.’

‘I thought Gwen was going to have a word with Rhys, see if we could just one of his lorries?’

Jack shrugged, ‘She changed her mind.’

Ianto pulled a face and Toshiko understood. Jack had changed Gwen’s mind for her.

‘Rhys is ok, but I don’t want to put him at risk,’ Jack explained, noticing the silent exchange, ‘And neither does Gwen.’

---------

Rhys Williams sat down and pushed the skinny latte across the café table to his fiancee Gwen Cooper. He was having a large mocha with extra whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. ‘Nearly five quid,’ he sasid, licking froth off his thumb, ‘For two coffees, it’s a disgrace.’

Gwen smiled at him. It was a beautiful day and they had been lucky enough to find an empty table on the pavement, ‘Stop complaining, it’s not offen we get to meet up in the day time.’

‘Well I’ll just have to make the most of it, won’t I?’

‘What does that mean?’ Gwen stiffened slightly. There was something in Rhys’ tone that rang alarm bells, the way he said something with that causal smile  but without meeting her gaze. It always meant trouble.

‘Y’know…in your line of work. Torchwood and all that. You never know the day, do you?’

Gwen put her coffee down, ‘What’s got into you? I thought we were good about this?’

‘We are, we are.’

‘Well you don’t sound it. C’mon, what’s up? I thought we were going to have a nice cup of coffee and chat about the wedding?’

‘Oh yeah, that.’

Gwen’s shoulders sagged, ‘Rhys, please tell me what’s the matter.’

‘Well I just thought…it’s not like you’re a police-woman anymore, is it? I mean, that was bad enough…’

‘Bad enough?’

‘Yeah, you know, with the risk and everything. Well, what I mean is, it’s not like being a…’ he floundered, ‘I don’t know…a secretary, is it?’

Gwen glared at him, ‘Is that what you wish I was? A bloody secretary, for God’s sake?’

‘No,’ he said, realizing that he had said the wrong thing again, ‘No, I only meant it as an example. You could be a bloody bricklayer for all I care. At least I’d know you were safe.’

She was still thinking of a reply when her mobile sang out. She flipped it, shielded the screen from the sun, saw the single word. TORCHWOOD. Oh great. Prefect timing, Jack.

‘I’ve got to go,’ Gen said, standing up, businesslike, ‘Thanks very much for the coffee.’

Rhys got up as well, ‘Don’t go. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to moan. I’m just worried, that’s all.’

‘I haven’t got time for this.’

And then the look was back in his eyes again. The one where his eyebrows sand right down over his nose. The only look on his face that she ever disliked, ‘No, you rush of, Gwen, run along to Jack. Maybe I’ll see you tonight, eh, if you’ve not been ubducted by aliens or eaten by  a Weeble.’

‘Weevil!’ yelled Gwen, and then realized, just as Rhys did, that they had raised their voiced loud enough for the other people at the nearby tables to hear. She turned abruptly and walked away, her heart hammering, leaving him to face the stares.

---------

She made it to the Hub in record time. There was nothing like a really bad mood to get you moving and by the time she’d walked to Roald Dahl Plass, Gwen did feel batter.

‘Where have you been?’ asked Jack as Gwen stepped into the cool and cavernous interior of the Torchwood base.

‘You gave me the morning off,’ she told him.

‘I never give anyone the morning off,’ he said, ‘That must have been an alien imposter posing as me.’

‘Don’t joke about it.’

‘It could happen. You have to be ready. If I ever give you the morning off again, question it. If I change my mind, then it’s the genuine me.’

‘There’s only one Captain Jack,’ Gwen laughed, ‘That I do know. What’s the emergancy?’

‘No emergancy. I just wanted the whole team together. We’ve brought something in and we need to check it out.’

Gwen dumped her jacket and bag on her workstation, ‘What is it?’

‘We don’t know,’ Ianto said, coming down the steps from the hothouse, ‘We’re thinking of having an office sweep. But so far it’s been officially promoted from a “thing” to an “artefect”. Coffee?’

Gwen shook her head. She could still taste the latte and it wasn’t good, ‘Where is it, then?’

---------

It was on the slab in the autopsy room.  Owen Harper, white lab coat glowing under the operating theatre lights, was examining the artefact with an old-fashioned magnifying glass while Toshiko stood close by, taking yet more readings on her PDA.

‘Blimey, that’s a big one,’ Gwen said as she came in.

‘That’s another way you can check it’s the real me.’ Jack murmured as he followed her down the steps into the cool, circular chamber.

‘Excuse me,’ said Owen, looking up from the examination table, ‘This is an innuendo-free zone.’

‘Since when?’

‘Tosh and I just agreed it, didn’t we, Tosh?

She looked up and nodded quickly, the blue glow from the scanner hiding her crimson blushes.

‘Did it come through the Rift?’ Gwen asked.

‘Landed slap-bang in the middle of Pontcanna,’ nodded Ianto, ‘Someone’s back garden, no less. They were pretty surprised but not traumatized.

‘Good neighbours,’ explained Jack.

‘And no need for retcon.’

Gwen nodded, satisfied. The memory-altering drug perfected by Captain Jack was used too often for her liking. She knew the public had to be protected, but sometimes it just felt wrong to protect them retrospectively.

‘We brought it back in a van,’ Ianto continued, ‘Took all four of us to lift it. I still can’t get the smell off my hands.’

‘You were wearing gloves,’ Owen pointed out.

‘I know, it’s the smell of the gloves I can’t get rid of,’ Ianto screwed up his face, ‘It’s the rubber.’

‘So any idea of what it actually is?’ Gwen approached the examination table cautiously. Whatever it was, it certianly ponged. It was a distinctly organic smell, like the mulch at the bottom of a forest floor. Ripe and peaty.

‘I’ve been collecting a number of different readings and scan data,’ Toshink reported. Her glasses flashed blue in the light of the PDA screen as she continued to run through the analysis programs, ‘It’s one hundred percent extraterrestrial, but there’s not match in the database for organic compounds, cell structure, polymer chains or nucleic acids.’

‘So,’ Jack summerised, ‘Something new. Any guesses?’

‘Crusty roll for a giant?’ offered Ianto, ‘Abbadon’s packed lunch, perhaps…’ But no one even smiled at that.

‘It’s organic,’ Owen comfired, ‘But it’s dead.’ He tapped the side of the amber pod with a knuckle. Even with surgical gloves on, there was a distinct, hard rap.

‘It’s a chrysalis,’ said Gwen.

They all turned to look at her. Self concious, she managed a shrug, ‘ What? I did a project on them in juniors. You know, butterflies and moths – in the larval stage, when they’re caterpillars, they weave a silk covering all around themselves and it dries out and forms a hard chrysalis. Inside, the caterpillar dissolves into a kind of soup an then reforms as an entirely new creature. A butterfly or moth.’

‘You’re saying there could be a giant caterpillar in there?’ asked Jack.

‘Or a butterfly,’ added Toshiko.

‘Or soup,’ suggested Ianto.

‘I don’t know,’ Gwen said. She was standing close to the thing now, staring down into the translucent shell outer layer, ‘But that’s the thing about them. The chrysalis, the shell, is dead matter. It’s what’s inside it that’s alive.’

---------

Rhys jumped down from the lorry cab and slammed the door. It was still sunny, but there were puddles left over from yesterday’s downpour. He splashed his way across the yard towards the Portakabin office of Harwood’s Haulage, still fuming.

He and Gwen were arguing far too much lately. He’s put it down to pre-marriage nerves; some of his married mates had said that the weeks leading up to theire weddings had been the worst of their entire lives. ‘And then after the wedding, it all goes down hill,’ Banana Boat had warned. Feeble joke, but it had made Rhys laugh out loud.

‘Get away,’ Rhys had said, ‘What would you know about it? I’m looking forward to it, me.’

‘No you’re not. You’re bloody terrified.’

But Banana Boat was wrong about that. Rhys was scared of notgetting married. Of getting there, up the aisle, with Gwen, before some insane alien space monster ate her alive or fried her with a laser blaster.

Before he’d known, in the months before he’d stumbled on the truth and found out about Captain Jack Harkness and Torchwood, Rhys and Gwen had argued a lot. In a funny kind of way it had been a relief to find out about the space aliens and the Rift and the Hub and all that crazy stuff. Because it made sense of the arguments, of the tension, and the deceit. He hadn’t liked it but he’d understood it. And the truth had brought them closer together, closer than they had ever been.

But there was a doubt in Rhys’ mind now. After the initial excitement, the thrill, the breathtaking madness of It all, it came down to this; Gwen faced deadly danger on a regular basis, peril and adventure that the rest of the world could only have nightmares about. But for the people in Torchwood, for Gwen Cooper, and now Rhys himself, those nightmares were reality. And more than that, they were daily routine.

And that was scaring Rhys now. Scaring him big time. Because every time his phone rang, his guts would turn stone cold and his hand would tremble as he took his mobile out of his pocket. Because one day, any day, that would be Jack Harkness calling with bad news.

---------

Gwen was in Jack’s office. She was standing at the window, looking across the Hub to the autopsy room where Owen and Toshiko were still working on the chrysalis. It had been officially promoted from “artefact” to “chrysalis” and Gwen felt quite proud.

���Problems?’ asked Jack. He was sitting with his boots up on his desk and his hands behind his head. His sky-blue eyes were watching her carefully. Gwen always knew when Jack’s eyes were on her.

‘No, nothing,’ she replied, fiddling with her necklace. It was a cheap leather and shell thing that Rhys had given her only last week, down by the waterfront. It had caught her eye on the Cardiff Bay souvenir stall and Rhys had bought it for her instantly.

‘You can’t kid a kidder,’ drawled Jack, ‘Listen, I know you wanted Rhys to help. The truck thing – it was a good offer, a kind offer. Exactly what I’d expect from you. But I can’t involve Rhys in our work. He’s gotta stay separate, do you understand?’

‘Sure.’

Silent as a panther, Jack appeared at her shoulder, one warm hand on her arm, ‘I mean it, Gwen. You’re Torchwood. Rhys is the real world. He’s what you go back to at the end of the day. Let’s not ruin that.’

‘I understand.’

He turned her around and looked deep into her eyes. She could feel her irises loosening, widening, drinking in that cool blue gaze. When he spoke, she could feel his breath on her face.

‘Do you understand? Really?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve gotta care for everybody, Gwen. Even Rhys.’

She closed her eyes, ‘Yes.’

There was a polite knock at the door and Jack let go of her.

‘Excuse me,’ said Toshiko, ‘But I think we’ve found something that might be of interest…’

---------

‘It’s writing,’ said Ianto.

They were all staring at a patch of smooth amber on the side of the chrysalis. Owen’s pen torch was picking out a series of marks in the material, angular cuts which run in a long line around the entire perimeter, ‘From most angles the marks are actually quite difficult to see,’ explained Owen, ‘But if I shing a UV light on them…’ He changed the setting on his torch and the tip glowed ultraviolet. And then, instantly, the markings were impossible to miss.

‘The y are not random or accidental cuts,’ Toshiko confirmed, ‘It is definitely some sort of deliberate, intelligent inscription.’

‘So what does it say?’ Jack asked.

‘I’m running it through every transcription protocol we have. It could be a long process, though.’

‘Ok,’ Jack clapped his hands, ‘The day’s just got interesting. Let’s get to it, guys. I wanna know what this thing is and where it’s come from.’

‘Uh, Jack,’ began Gwen, ‘I think the day might be getting a little more interesting than you thought…’

‘What do you mean?’

Gwen pointed, ‘Look at the chrysalis. Can’t you see? Inside. Something’s moving inside.’

---------

Rhys dialled Gwen’s mobile. It rang twice and then her voice said, ‘Rhys, what is it?’ She sounded busy, distracted. Ringing her was wrong, he shouldn’t be checking up on her like this, but he had done it now.

‘Gwen love…about before. I didn’t mean to have a go at  you, I was out of order.’

‘Yeah. Ok. No worries.’

She sounded like she wanted to close the call. Rhys felt a flare of irritation again; here he was, trying to make amends, extend the olive branch, and she was too busy, ‘What’s up?’ he asked, ‘What are  you doing?’

‘Rhys, I’m busy. I’ll call you back.’

Gwen snapped the phone shut and returned it to her back pocket, ‘Sorry.’

They all looked at her for a long moment. None of them ever received calls in the Hub, at least not from anyone outside Torchwood. Gwen didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or smug. But she did bloody feel annoyed with Rhys, didn’t he ever know when to let go?

‘I’m getting new readings,’ Toshiko announced, ‘Gwen’s right. There’s something in there and it’s alive.’

‘How come we’ve only just noticed it now?’ Jack wanted to know.

‘It’s only just started moving,’ Owen said, circling the examination table, ‘Something’s activated it.’

The chrysalis cracked open with a sound ricocheting around the Hub like a gunshot. The team all took a step back, reflexively.

For a second after that, nobody moved. They all stare at the jagged split running down the top of the chrysalis from one end to the other. Something moist glistened beneath the two halves, something which moved with a slow, ugly sucking noise.

Jack’s hand was on his gun, drawing it already. Owen was backing away from the chrysalis, one hand out to pull Toshiko back with him. She was still immersed in the readings from her scanner, her eyes fixed on the blue screen, ‘There’s been a huge surge in energy levels,’ she reported without looking up.

‘We kinda noticed,’ Jack said, levelling the Webley revolver. Ianto was already mounting the steps leading out of the autopsy room, heading with brisk efficiency for the weapons cabinet.

Only Jack, Gwen, and Owen saw the thing emerge from its chrysalis. It burst like a giant abscess, globules of stinking ichor spraying across the room as the contents were disgorged.

It moves so fast that they should even see what it was, not properly. It shot upwards in a tangle of limbs, knocking the theatre lamps flying and sticking to the ceiling like a screwed up spider. Owen was in his back, shouting something, and when Gwen looked at him she could see that he was hurt, twisting from side to side while he clutched his face.

Jack fired three shots at the creature, the boom of the heavy calibre pistol rattling all the instruments in the room. Brick dust showered them as each bullet missed its target. The thing scuttled with inhuman speed across the ceiling, swung down through the entrance ach and lashed out, somehow, in retaliation. Jack was sent spinning through the air, all the breath knocked out of him, until he crashed into the wall with bone-crunching force.

‘Jack!’ Gwen yelled, charging across to him. She skidded in a patch of alien goo and hit the floor hard next to Jack’s inert figure. She turned him over and gasped when she saw the huge black gash on his forehead. Blood had already begun to pour down his face and he was out cold.

Toshiko was bent over Owen, who has stopped screaming but was not moaning in a way which was somehow worse. It was the kind of sound that no one should ever had to make, the same sound Gwen had once heard at a road traffic accident she had been unlucky enough to attend as a fresh-faced WPC. The young lad caught under the wheels of the bin lorry had made the same noise minutes before he died, before the ambulance ever got close. It was something Gwen had hoped to never hear again, and yet now she was, only this time it was her friend, someone she loved, someone she’d screwed, for pity’s sake, dying right in front of her. Owen was still holding his face, his fingers white and ridged. Toshiko was panic stricken, trying to speak to him, but barely able to say anything coherent.

Gwen made Jack as comfortable as she could, but quickly. She knew he would be ok. Then she crabbed across the room, patting Toshiko on the shoulder as she went, ‘Look after him,’ she ordered, and Tosh, bless her, just looked up and nodded without a word. Owen was holding onto Toshiko’s arm with one hand now, his fingers flexing and pulling her. His other hand was on his face and Gwen could see blood, lots of it, running down his wrist as he rocked back and forth, groaning and whimpering.

‘He’ll be alright,’ Gwen said and again Toshiko simply nodded, as if hardly daring to disagree.

‘Get it!’ Owen hissed through his fingers. Blood bubbled behind his hand and one eye blared feverishly at Gwen, bloodshot and frightened, ‘Get the bloody thing!’

Gwen nodded and ran up into the Hub.

---------

It looked empty. The huge space was quiet, save for the tick and whirr of the computer stations and the hum of the Rift manipulator. Nothing moved.

Gwen’s weapon, a powerful 9mm Sig Sauer automatic, was on her desk. She could reach it in half a dozen quick strides. But where was the creature?

Something moved across the Hub and Gwen froze. Then she saw Ianto step out of the shadows beneath the hothouse, a Heckler & Koch SMG slung over his shoulder. There was a magazine already in place, a second one taped to the side of it for speedy reloading. He was scanning the Hub, sweeping the area for any sign of the thing from the chrysalis, his forefinger resting on the trigger of the gun.

He saw Gwen, nodded once. Then something crawled across the high walkway which ran along one side of the hub and Ianto swivelled, bringing the SMG up to his shoulder to aim.

The creature stopped, almost invisible in the shadows. Gwen could hardly see it, apart from the impression of a number of limbs sticking out from beneath a shiny carapace, like a beetle or a cockroach. But, boy, was it big. Big and fast.

Ianto took a cautious step forward, still keeping the creature in his sights, but trying to reach a better firing position. As he moved, the creature moved. It crawled slowly along the gantry, matching him step for step.

Then, without warning, it sprang. Ianto fired instinctively, the muzzle flash igniting the scene for split seconds like a strobe light. Gwen saw a few glimpses of the thing in mid-air, like momentary snapshots, saw the widening jaws and jagged fangs.

It barely slowed under the hail of gunfire. It collided with Ianto and he disappeared in an instant, as if he had stepped off the kerb in front of a speeding lorry.

Gwen had already made the dash for her gun. She grabbed the Sig, cocked it, aimed, squeezed the trigger. Once, twice, so many more times she lost count. It was a big gun, too big for her really, the magazine holding 16 very heavy rounds. But Jack Harkness had taught her how to shoot and there was no one better than Jack.

The bullets in the Sig were not ordinary rounds. They were Torchwood ammo, hollow point, steel jacketed, with one microdot of super-dense Dwarf Star alloy to pack and extra punch. A great lump of it, about the size of a grain of sale, had come through the Rift 30 years ago. It was enough to keep them all in ammunition for decades to come, thanks to a tame microphysics engineer Jack knew at UNIT.

The bullets tore chunks out of the walls, holes in the pipe work and left one armoury window shattered. Several struck the creature. She didn’t see the rounds hit, but she knew, she just knew, they’d hit home. The creature squealed and crashed against a wall, splashing through the water at the base of the water tower and disappearing into the shadows.

Then all went quiet. Gwen’s ears were still ringing, but she could tell that the Hub was silent again. She couldn’t even hear Owen anymore. Perhaps he was dead now, like the boy who had been run over by the bin wagon. Perhaps Ianto was dead too. Jack was unconscious. Toshiko was not a warrior.

It was down to Gwen.

She walked forward slowly, keeping the gun level, ready to shoot again at point blank of necessary.

Silence. She strained to hear something, anything, that might give the creature’s location away. Breathing. Or the click of its amour. Or the sticky noise of its jaws opening.

Nothing.

She crept forward, arms extended, rigid, like a signpost to death.

It had to be nearby. It couldn’t have gone much further.

Another step. Her canvas trainers didn’t make a sound.

And then her mobile went off in her pocket.

She physically jumped with shock. The jaunty ringtone trilled out across the Hub, drawing the attention of anyone, or anything, that might be listening.

The creature sprang from its hiding place, jaws snapping at her. Gwen actually saw the spittle flying from the jagged spikes which filled the gaping maw, aware that the last sound she was ever going to hear in her life was her ringtone, and the last thought she would ever have was Rhys you stupid bugger.

And then it was on her.

[inaccurate-janto-conversations]

Ianto: I'll be right back I'm going to go order our Lis-Pizza!!

Owen/Gwen/Tosh/Jack/Myfanwy/Janet:

Ianto: I'm fine I just...the pizza girls name is Lisa so-

Owen/Gwen/Tosh/Jack/Myfanwy/Janet:

Ianto: LOOK! I'M GOING THROUGH A HARD TIME OK!?! SHUT UP!!

[mayalr96]

The Two Doctors Story 8: Cardiff Part 2.

As promised, Part 2 is now up. Hope you enjoy it :)

For those of you who don’t like reading from here, are are links to AO3 and FF.net.

There never seemed to be a stop to the work in the Torchwood Hub. Spencer had only been there for three days and he and Tosh upgraded the entire computer system, he helped Owen refill his stock of alien drugs, as well as made sure they were all safe to use on humans and spent an entire afternoon helping Gwen correlate between Torchwood and the local PD.

While at it and as if it was nothing special – which, to be honest, it probably wasn’t – they also captured four Weevles who ran loose and created havoc in the streets of Cardiff and monitored two peaks in the rift’s activity.

Truly, if it wasn’t for Ianto’s apparent ability to look at someone and prepare the ultimate coffee for their needs, Spencer would have killed Jack after the tenth time the former Time Agent proposed that they’d take a break in Spencer’s hotel room. Or in Jack’s flat. Or office. Or, once, the holding cells.

He was no longer as angry at the Welsh as he had been before, knowing that the Battle wasn’t his fault and knowing that he had lost a great number of friends that day, as well, but though he managed to be friendly with him he didn’t think they could ever truly become friends.

There was simply too much baggage to carry between them.

It was on Christmas Eve that Jack finally revealed the true reason he wanted Spencer to come visit. The team got a night off, leaving only the two of them in the Hub as Jack revealed his immortality to the Time Lord. Spencer frowned, running a couple of scans on Jack before sighing.

“I knew that something was wrong when I looked at you,” he admitted. “But I didn’t think of it much because I knew that the Doctor travelled with you, so I thought that I imagined it. But now…” he sighed again. “Somehow, at a certain point between the Doctor starting to travel with you and when you were left on Satellite Five, you became a fixed point in time.”

“Sorry,” Jack said with a confused frown, “I thought that only events could be fixed points in time.”

“Theoretically, yes,” Spencer replied. “A person being a fixed point… it shouldn’t happen. It’s a mistake – no offence,” he quickly added.

“None taken, I think,” Jack sighed. “So, is there anything you can do? Can you… can you fix me?”

“I… I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do,” Spencer sighed. “Maybe the Doctor could do something with the TARDIS, but I very much doubt it. Once something becomes a fixed point, there’s nothing you can do to change it.”

“So, what?” Jack asked. “I’m stuck like this? I’ll never be able to die?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jack sighed. “Should have expected it, really, but I couldn’t help but stay hopeful. After living so long…”

“Yeah,” Spencer sighed. “I know.”

“And my team…” Jack added. “I’ve never grown this close to a Torchwood team before, and to know that one day they’ll…”

“I know,” Spencer repeated. “I’m trying very hard not to think about…” he trailed off at the sound of beeping coming from Jack’s computer, frowning in confusion. “What’s that?”

“Alert on alien aircraft inside Earth’s inner atmosphere,” Jack replied, moving to check it more closely. “Let’s see if we can get a picture… oh.”

“What?” Spencer asked, moving closer to look as well. “What is – oh.”

The two men looked at one another, knowing that the video that appeared on the screen could only mean one thing.

One car-drive later found Spencer laying on the bed of his hotel room, trying to wrap his mind around everything that happened. In less than an hour, news would spread and he would have to answer stressed phone calls from his teammates, but for now he had some peace to think over what happened.

He would seek a thorough explanation further on, but judging on what he knew so far, the entire situation screamed ‘Doctor’. Honestly, a spaceship flying over London was the Doctor’s equivalent to putting up a sign declaring his presence on the highway. Just as sending out military troops to blow the ship up was the Master’s equivalent to sending out a message saying ‘I’m here’ to replay on every television.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Spencer’s cellphone started ringing in the special ringtone he set as the Master’s. He knew that he couldn’t simply ignore it, no matter how much he wanted, and reluctantly brought the phone closer to him.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, Professor,” the Master sighed. “So rude. Did you really forget all of the etiquette lessons they gave us as kids? Then again,” he mused, “I remember you offering a much better way to spend these lessons.”

“I asked you a question,” Spencer said through gritted teeth.

“And I chose to ignore it, Professor.”

“Don’t call me that,” Spencer bit out. “That’s not my name.”

“It’s the name I knew you as,” the Master said. “If I recall well, you didn’t used to have a problem with me calling you that – or, more accurately, me calling that name in general while we –”

“What do you want?” Spencer cut him off sharply. “I’m really not in the mood for this, Master.”

“The dear Doctor’s back in town,” the Master said. “Did he call you, yet?”

“Kind of hard to with you clogging the line.”

“This regeneration really is quite rude,” the Master said again. “Didn’t dear mummy teach you manners?”

“Go to hell,” Spencer replied, turning to hang up the call only to be stopped by the next words the Master said.

“You didn’t say anything about my present, though.”

“What?”

“My present,” the Master repeated. “The pretty missiles, I made them for you.”

“Don’t you dare call shooting a spaceship and killing everyone inside something you did for me,” Spencer all but snarled. “You kill because you enjoy it, Master. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“There was a Racnoss inside, Professor,” the Master said. “You can’t just expect me to –”

“Don’t call me Professor!”

Spencer was breathing hard, his hearts pounding quickly in his ears. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep in touch with the Master any more, it will drive him to be as crazy as the other Time Lord is. He had to cut it off, and he had to do it now.

“Goodbye, Master,” he said simply, removing the phone from his ear.

“Spencer, wait –”

But he had already pressed the button, falling on the bed and closing his eyes.

It had been two months since the Master first contacted him, and six since he last spoke to the Doctor. He knew that even if his friend would call now he wouldn’t tell him about the Master being back – there was too much risk, especially considering he had just hung up in his face – but he needed to hear his voice, to know for certain that he as alright.

More than that, he needed an explanation. He deserved an explanation.

The Doctor picked up after the first dial, but Spencer suddenly found himself at loss for words.

“Spencer?” the man on the other end of the line asked. “Spencer, are you there?”

It was like a dam broke at the sound of the Doctor’s voice, and Spencer didn’t know if he was ever going to be able to close it again.

“Where the hell have you been?” he growled. “Six months, Doctor. Six months since Canary Wharf, and even when you finally do come back, you don’t even bother to call me?”

“I only just came back,” the Doctor said. “Spencer, I planned on calling you as soon as I had the time, I was just… busy.”

“Busy,” Spencer repeated. “Yeah, I saw. Drained the Thames. Found the time for that, didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t by choice,” the Doctor said. “There was a Racnoss –”

“Do I sound like I care for your excuses?” Spencer asked. “Six months, Doctor!”

“It was less than a day ago for me!” the Doctor called out. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner but I couldn’t! I still can’t! I can’t talk about it because Rose and her mother –”

“I know that they’re dead!” Spencer called back. “Not that you bothered telling me, though, I had to find out from the list of the dead!”

“They’re not dead!”

At that, Spencer froze. “What?” he asked, confused.

“They’re not dead,” the Doctor repeated, still breathing heavily after the screaming match that proceeded his words. “They’re… they’re in another universe – they’re trapped in another universe. The one Mickey is in. The one where… the one where Pete Tyler never died.”

“They’re… trapped?” Spencer asked.

“They’re alive,” the Doctor said. “Rose is alive. But I’ll never be able to see her again.”

“What about…” Spencer swallowed hard. “What about the Cybermen?”

“Also from the other universe,” the Doctor said. “There was a breach in the walls between worlds and they came through.”

“And…” Spencer swallowed hard. “The Daleks?”

The Doctor was silent for a moment before speaking, sounding as if saying the words caused him physical pain.

“From the Void,” he said, and Spencer’s breath hitched. “From… they came from the Time War. The Time Lords trapped them there. When the walls between worlds breached…”

“There was access to the Void and they came back through,” Spencer sighed. “Where are they now?”

“Back in hell,” the Doctor replied with a darkness Spencer rarely heard in him. “The Cybermen and the Daleks, all back in the Void.”

Spencer took a shaky breath, closing his eyes. “How does it always happen?” he asked. “Why… why do they keep on winning, when we always lose?”

“They don’t win,” the Doctor said. “Spencer, they didn’t win. All of the Daleks are gone now.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Spencer replied. “So how do they keep coming back when all of our people are gone?”