-wheeze- Okay, because "Utopia" was NINE ACTS -slaps forehead- I'm spreading it out this week. Simply because I need more time and some of these acts really need to be read separate from others because of tone. It's remarkable how much darker TW was when I compared what I wrote for DW.
Note: This is my first major writing into DW so I'm worried the characterizatins might be wrong. Please forgive any mistakes. They're mine's entirely.
Author: 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.
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them. I'm just borrowing them for a while.
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: Please note this is an AU that will cross over DW to TW season one. I'm probably spoiling my own story, but it will eventually be Janto. There's a bit of a journey first. I hope you enjoy. I'm working on this and intend to post regularly every other day. And again, I always believe in happy endings. So without further ado…
Warning For This Chapter: violence, strong language
Notes For This Chapter: Note there are parallels to DW "Utopia" and briefly mentions "Boomtown" "Blink" and "Lazarus" but hopefully even withot seeing them, the story's fine.)
Prologue + Ch 1, 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
Chapter 35 "Utopia"
Act I: "I was a different man back then."
Cardiff
Present day…
Present day…
Martha Jones was looking forward to their next hop. She hoped, however, that they avoided anything carnivorous this time and that it was hopefully not as dangerous as three stops before, too. No creepy statues or giant half-man, half-monster either. It was hard to run for your life in these shoes. The Doctor once suggested trainers like his, but Martha gave him such a look he never brought it up again.
The Doctor, his brown hair in it's customary mad scientist disarray, wiggled a knob, jiggled a lever, before skidding to a halt by a monitor. The TARDIS lurched as it landed.
Martha looked at the Doctor expectantly.
The Doctor squinted, tapped his monitor and snapped his fingers. "Cardiff!" he announced triumphantly. The TARDIS chirped.
"Cardiff?" Martha yelped. That was neither dangerous nor carnivorous.
The Doctor looked equally excited as if it were both. It was always hard to gauge when anything actually was. The time traveler always thought everything was fascinating, brilliant, and fantastic, and usually his enthusiasm was contagious.
But Cardiff?
The Doctor was running past her—always running as if he'd never learned to walk—to flip a switch across from where she stood, still flummoxed.
"Ah, but the thing about Cardiff—it's built on a rift in time and space," he explained, pausing long enough to gesture with his hands like he was shaping the air into something wonderful, "just like..." His brow furrowed before it smoothed out when he brightened. "California on the San Andreas Fault. But the rift bleeds energy."
The Doctor frowned at a dial and flipped a couple of toggles. The TARDIS squeaked and he absently gave the console an apologetic pat before he fiddled with a dial.
"Every now and then I need to open up the engines, soak up the energy, and use it as fuel."
Around her, the TARDIS cooed in agreement.
Ah. Understanding dawned. "So it's a pit stop," Martha guessed with a grin. Why didn't he just say so?
"Exactly." The Doctor nodded. He beamed. He pursed his lips briefly in calculation. "Should only take twenty seconds." He squinted at a screen and frowned to himself. "The rift's been active."
Martha nodded, not quite listening. Short stop, oh well. She had thought to give Tish a ring, maybe pick up some sweets, and perhaps do a little shopping. No bother. She was a little disappointed though. Martha was hoping for a more eventful stop.
Nothing ever happens in Cardiff.
As soon as the jar began beeping, he knew.
"Great, first Jack disappears, now his creepy jar is making noises!" Owen complained.
While everyone else was staring at the hand that had been silent for as long as they can remember, Ianto darted around to stand directly in front of it. He braced his arms on either side of the column it sat on and stared hard at it. He whipped around, and with a few quick punches of his key code, grabbed the closest handgun he knew was loaded in the Armory.
"Shit, what are you—Ianto?"
"Stop!"
"Ian—wait, what the hell are you do—Ianto!"
Ianto didn't know who was shouting. He didn't care. He jammed Jack's wrist strap into his pocket along with the ominous note and darted for the cogwheel door because the invisible lift wouldn't come when he slam his hand down on the button by the railing. That told him something was on top of it. It was all he needed to know.
Someone made a grab for his sleeve but he wrenched free and someone swore. He slipped through the narrow opening between the cogwheel and the archway as the cogwheel slowly rolled open. Owen swore when he banged into it. They were still shouting his name, but Ianto couldn't explain. There was no time. Ianto just knew there was no time.
The lift closed on everyone's faces and Ianto thought he heard Owen kick the lift's doors uselessly. Ianto didn't hold the doors open though. He could imagine them now trying to clamor up the stairs in pursuit. It felt oddly reminiscent of when they had chased him when he'd darted back into the Hub to save Lisa. The reminder made him queasy.
Panting, Ianto leaned against the lift wall and took a steadying breath as the lift ascended to the level of the Tourist Information Center. His hands shook as he checked his weapon, his clip, and the safety like Jack taught him. Done, Ianto slipped it into his shoulder holster. His hand trembled violently and he missed a few times before the gun dropped securely inside his jacket just as the doors open.
His shoes rang hollowly and alone as Ianto raced down the hidden passageway behind the office. All he could do was pray he wasn't too late.
"Wait a minute..." Martha twisted around back towards the Doctor. She leaned forward, braced on the console. She stared hard at him between the crystal pillars. "They had an earthquake in Cardiff a couple of years ago, was that you?"
It was as close as she had ever seen the Doctor flustered. His hairline rose, the corner of his mouth twitched. "Bit of trouble with the Slitheen." He tugged at his ear and delicately cleared his throat. His face shadowed like when he had talked about his home and suddenly he looked much older than his face appeared. Then again, Martha always thought his eyes were far older than his face.
"Long time ago," the Doctor murmured, his face twisted as if something pained his hearts. He made an unconvincing shrug. "Lifetimes…I was a different man back then," the Doctor explained in a way that never really explained anything. His breadcrumbs often didn't lead to anywhere, yet you couldn't help but follow them in hopes of something grand.
Martha found he could be both downright infuriating and endearing during these moments.
"You get more and more cryptic each day," Martha complained good-naturedly.
The Doctor flashed her a quick grin that she couldn't help but copy.
As soon as the doors opened, as soon as sunlight met his face when he burst out of the Tourist office, Ianto ran.
He thought of when he first met Jack, when he found Jack in the dark, silent TARDIS, barely able to sit up, too dazed to do anything more than watch another man button up his shirt.
Ianto's legs pumped furiously up the dock, towards the Plass.
He thought about Jack white and still, bound by IVs and surrounded by impassive strangers, and Ianto begged himself to go faster.
His lungs burned as his legs ate up the distance across pavement, up the wharf, across the Plass and towards a shimmering mirage of a blue police box that stood in front of the water sculpture. It was hidden out on the open, sitting perfectly on top of their invisible lift, but Ianto had worked long enough in Torchwood now to able to discern the wavering image from the distance. And that box had been emblazed into memory as charred as the smell of blood and fire on Canary Wharf.
He ran towards it.
His left ankle ached, surely because he must have turned a foot, bruised a shinbone, when he came barreling out of the office and into the postman with his trolley. Someone had cursed at him but Ianto didn't stop to apologize.
The little alarm that sat on top of the call box was beginning to revolve; its electric strobe winked, a blue light started to spin. Ianto didn't know what it meant, but knew it was a signal for something. His throat clenched and he raced towards the blue box.
Don't let him be too late.
The TARDIS beeped; its own delicate way of saying it was done. The Doctor brightened and whatever dark thoughts shadowing the time traveler fled so dramatically, it was like as if it were never there.
"Ah. All filled up!" he announced and gestured towards the console.
Martha gripped the edge of the one part of the console she knew was safe—she was always afraid of bumping into a toggle or a button she shouldn't have—and nodded she was ready. The Doctor beamed at her and reached for the lever for the main engines.
He never ran this hard before, never on his life, not even at Canary Wharf. His ears roared, his mouth soured, and his heart hammered when he realized he might not make it. One desperate burst of strength and Ianto nearly slammed bodily into the faded blue painted door. His head rang when Ianto collided with the immovable object, all elbows and knees knocking.
No one on the Plass took notice.
Perception filter, Ianto thought briefly to himself. It was a fleeting notion as he staggered a step back and yank at the door.
It wouldn't open. Of course it wouldn't open. He didn't have a key and Jack was possibly locked inside.
Ianto stared helplessly at the police box.
"All right, then! Here we go!" the Doctor declared and flipped a switch with a flourish.
Martha gripped the console tighter. She shared a broad and expectant smile with the Doctor as he pulled down the main lever with a flourish.
The TARDIS rumbled. Then it screeched, rattled, and sputtered. Something above her head sparked. The TARDIS shrieked.
And then…everything went dark.
"Ey?"
Something squeaked when he tugged violently at the door again and Ianto could have sworn it was from the box. Ianto placed both hands splayed on the doors that refused to open. He stared, sweat dripping into his eyes, at the faded and ink smeared 'Free For Use of Public' sign. His palms registered the age-smoothed blue painted wood—only a camouflage, Ianto reminded himself—before he slammed his right fist hard repeatedly on the surface.
"Doctor!" Ianto shouted. His hand hurt as he smacked the wood again and again with his fist, but he didn't stop. He wasn't leaving.
Not without Jack.
"Doctor!"
Someone was suddenly knocking on the door. Very loudly. In fact, the doors rattled under the assault. It reminded her of an old children's tale.
"'I'll huff and puff and blow your house down,' says the Big Bad Wolf," Martha muttered. She winced as the pounding only increased.
Martha could hear a man's voice shouting. Nothing coherent; it sounded like it was just one name over and over.
Martha darted the Doctor a look.
The Doctor never glanced up, still muttering as he poked at a few buttons. The TARDIS lights flickered, the entire ship shuddered, but did nothing else.
"Come on, come on. You've had your fill of the rift like a good, little, fat TARDIS," the Doctor muttered, scratching his head.
And like any female of any species—Martha was certain it was female as the Doctor treated her like one—the TARDIS squawked indignantly at the remark, and then made a rolling, glass crunching sound. If Martha didn't know any better, she could have sworn it just told the Doctor rather impolitely to sod off.
Martha rolled her eyes. Yes, it didn't matter the species, the Doctor had the tact of a bee—far too direct for his own good. She cleared her throat.
Not even a grunt as the Doctor folded his arms in front of him, tapped a foot, and contemplated the console. His right eyebrow rose high as he read whatever it was flashing on the console.
"What do you mean I told you to stay put?" the time traveler complained. Now both eyebrows rose into his hairline. He was beginning to look cross. "I did no such thing."
The TARDIS bleated.
"Um…Doctor?"
"This is the last time I let you come here to this century for a snack. The last time nearly ripped the solar system apart…"
Martha trailed off, her eyes wider.
She was not going to ask about that one, but the door rattled something fierce, demanding at least some sort of interruption. "Uh…"
The TARDIS made a sad cooing reply and the Doctor gave the coral vine that snaked up the pillar a stroke of his fingers.
"I know. I know. It wasn't your fault that time. The extrapolator didn't agree with you. But what's the matter with you now? Indigestion?"
Both the TARDIS and Martha growled.
"Doctor!" It was uncanny, but her exclamation came in exactly with the shouting outside. It was loud enough and in such perfect unison, the knocker was startled and the thumping stopped. But then it started up again.
The Doctor, chewing his lower lip in thought, lifted his head.
"Hm? Oh, Martha, could you see who's at the door?" The Doctor scratched his head as he frowned down at the console. "Was it one of the temporal ices? I thought they were all replaced. Did I miss one? Maybe the ionic compressor clogged up again?"
The TARDIS just chirped helplessly.
Martha stared. "M-me? B-but…I…ah…I give up." She threw up her hands and fought the urge to stomp over to the door.
It was Cardiff. Probably a PC here to complain they were parked somewhere they shouldn't.
As Martha started to open the door, another thought occurred to her.
Wait a minute; no one should be able to see this police box!
Before she could change her mind and close the door again, a hand slapped against it square and flung the door open wider. Martha jumped back.
A rather nice looking man around her age, unruly dark hair plastered to his forehead, stared back at her with very blue eyes. He was dressed in a charcoal suit, his gray shirt rumpled, his navy blue tie tossed over his shoulder. Despite the somber colors and current disheveled appearance, Martha could see the suit would have hung very nicely on him.
He looked startled to see her. He was panting as if he had been running.
"Doctor?" he repeated, considering her up and down. He looked confused.
"Not yet," Martha said brightly. Goodness, he was pretty. Now she was glad to have opened the door. "Maybe another year in school."
If anything, the man grew more perplexed. "S-school?" he stammered.
Martha took pity on him and called out over her shoulder. "Oi! Doctor!"
"Yes, yes, what is it?" The Doctor squinted towards her, over the console he was crouched by, wires grasped firmly in one hand, the ever-present sonic screwdriver on the other.
"It's for you."
"For me?"
"Only Doctor in here." Martha winked at the young man, but he didn't wink back. Poor bloke was still trying to catch his breath. He tensed for some reason and stared around her into the TARDIS.
The Doctor's brow rose and whatever caught his interest by the console lost its power. He clapped his hands together to clean them off, brushed off his sleeves and trotted over. Martha stepped back and let him through.
"Hello?" The Doctor blinked at the gaping man with a curious expression. It faded to a perplexed mild frown.
The young man stared up at him. "Y-you're the Doctor?" he asked hoarsely with a bit of uncertainty.
The Doctor gave the man a congenial, if not mystified, smile. "Yes?"
The other gaped at him. Then something shifted a fraction on his face. "Regeneration, of course," the other muttered to himself.
The Doctor blinked.
"What did you just say?" the Doctor blurted out, his eyes growing larger.
Martha scrunched up her nose. Regen what?
"Do I know you?" the Doctor asked, his brow furrowed.
"In another life, yes," the man said before he drew back a fist.
And punched him. Hard.
Martha yelped. The Doctor never made a sound. He fell back into the TARDIS, stumbling back and awkwardly dropped to the floor on his rear. Startled, Martha ran over and dropped to her knees next to him.
The Doctor braced his jaw and looked up at the young man now three steps inside. The Doctor looked quite astonished.
"Hello again, Doctor," the man said stiffly and he pulled out a gun and pointed it right at the speechless Doctor. The pleasant demeanor now darkened to something that didn't quite match his face yet fitted perfectly with the reed-thin tone in his next words.
"What have you done with him?"
Martha stared at the man, then at the Doctor. Only one thing came to mind and she blurted it out to the Doctor before she could help herself.
"We just got here! How did you get us in trouble already?"
"We just got here! How did you get us in trouble already?"
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Comments
Thanks for posting!
also - action!ianto - i love him so much.
-fans self-
LOL
Oh, this is fantastic. I totally expected him to punch, and lookit, he punched!
-panic-
-runs to next act-
-trips-
-scrambles to feet-
-continues running to next act-
madmenlovestruck guys with guns.:D
Do you know I had finished all 500 something pages by last Friday and have been checking back here for the continuation ever since? All through the weekend, which I am supposed to devote to husband and family and ignore my fan addictions, I slunk back over to the computer to check this site. Three days never seemed so long...
And it's finally here. Hurray!!!
Wait, wait... what do you mean you are spreading it out?!
Good God! I'm going to die!
Rosie
(meditating now - meditating until Friday)
-LOL-
Thank you for giving this fic a chance!
Uh... wait-wait... where's Jack? *goes to look for him in act II*
:)
The big question being of course which Doctor would Jack leave with - the real or the fake and if he went with the fake one what would that mean in terms of the storyline. And now you've raised a whole SLEW of new questions. Will the real Doctor get to the end of the universe as per DW's UTOPIA or have you come up with another of your incredibly twisty plot points? Will Ianto go with the Doctor to rescue Jack & defeat Saxon? (yes please!) BTW how on earth did the fake doctor get a hold of the TARDIS in the first place?
As always this chapter was wonderful especially Ianto's reaction to the Doctor. Oh and another question (I know, I know like you'll answer them before we get there in the story *eyeroll*)just who was it that told the TARDIS to stay put & when?
Any way enough rambling from me. I'm off to read the next part.
Morgan