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DW/TW AU fic: To Save A Life. (2/5)
Because I know that there are a couple people who have been waiting for this... (A Christmas post, and thoughts on 'The Next Doctor' coming later). Chapter one here.
Setting: 2027 (AU)
Characters: Jack, Ianto, OCs.
Warnings: Angst, character death.
Rating: PG-13?
Wordcount: 1750.
Chapter 2
Stop. Think. Use your brain. You’re the cleverest boy in the world, you can do this!
Who would know what was wrong with Ianto? The answer was instant: the Doctor.
The Doctor would know, because the Doctor knew everything. More or less, anyway. But the Seeker was sure the Doctor would know.
Except... except diagnosis was only half the problem.
He needed someone - somewhere - with not only the knowledge to tell what this was (it could be anything, anything at all, damn that rift), but also the remedy at hand. Only where in the universe was a place like that?
Then the answer came to him - clear, logical and perfect - and if he’d not been so strapped for time he would have laughed out loud. Instead he grabbed Ianto, and in a flash teleported the two of them straight into the tiny medical bay of his spaceship.
With some difficulty, trying to stop his hands from shaking, he strapped the older man into the bed (unconscious people were so heavy), waiting for a few seconds to see if the auto doctor could work out what it was, but of course he wasn’t so lucky... The thing was as basic as could be, something he vowed to remedy as soon as possible.
Running forward to the cockpit he slipped into his seat whilst already programming the vortex manipulator - careful, careful, no time for error...
Then he was hurtling through the vortex, yet again reminded of why ordinary spaceships weren’t suited for travelling this way - the view always made him vertiginous, apart from the fact that the rapid freefall through time made his head tingle and spin.
Reality reappeared in an abrupt flash, galaxy M87 spread out around him and New Earth straight ahead. He fired up the engines, hit go, and then swore violently as he almost crashed into the space lanes in front of him.
After engaging the autopilot - as he should have done from the start! - he pressed a few buttons, and immediately a vimpled cat appeared on his screen, gazing at him benignly.
“A good day to you stranger. We are the Sisters of Plentitude, how may we help?”
He took a deep breath. “A good day to you too. I am Alexander Saxon. Tell me - can you cure anything?”
She dipped her head a little. “We humbly try to do our best-”
His hands curled into fists, despair and hope both gnawing at the edges of his mind, along with a fierce desire to make reality bend to his wishes by sheer force of will. “No! Just answer, yes or no - can you cure anything?”
It was year 5 billion and eighteen... Five years before the Doctor’s first visit - it might be too early for them to have developed their ‘cure’, the Doctor’s recount of the story had been so vague...
The cat smiled, exuding calm competence and reassurance. “If you have faith in the Sisterhood...”
He exhaled, forcing calm to the forefront. “Oh I have faith Sister. Listen - I’m bringing you a patient who is minutes - possibly seconds - away from death. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, it could be anything at all, poisoning, virus, gas, incubation... and I need you to save his life. I swear, I’ll bring you Arcadian diamonds as large as your head if you will just help.”
“Of course we will help,” came the answer, just the tiniest bit reproachful, “that is why we are here. What are the symptoms?”
“Symptoms... Um... Look, I’ll send the results of my medi-bay’s analysis, it might tell you something. Afraid you will have to quarantine off a section to bring him in, if he’s contagious he could start an epidemic - and it is possible that you have to put him in stasis while you diagnose him, although I’m not sure if that’ll slow the progress...”
The cat nodded, quickly scanning the incoming data, and then became busy issuing a host of orders, both verbal and electronic, before looking up at him again.
“If you could land at shuttle port 2, we will be ready to assist.”
“Thank you. Thank you. You have no idea...”
The relief was almost overwhelming, but he knew that nothing was saved yet.
As he deftly parked the ship he saw a medical team wrapped up in full body suits already waiting, and the moment he opened the hatch they swarmed onboard, whisking Ianto away.
Staring after them he knew that his part had been played and the only thing he could do now was pray... (What did he believe in? Time, he supposed - science, technology, logic... none of these exactly a fitting subject for prayer) and he almost jumped as a hand came to rest on his arm.
“Please pardon me, Mr Saxon, but I’m afraid you need to come this way. We will make sure to disinfect your ship, and you will need a thorough check-over. If this is indeed a contagious disease, you yourself could be infected.”
Blinking at the suited-up cat beside him, he hesitated momentarily.
“Just disinfect me for starters, OK? I’m not... I’m not exactly average. Seriously, my immune system is extremely advanced, so I might not be in any danger. Although if I start turning green...”
The medic nodded silently, and beckoned him to follow.
A little later the Seeker was stuck in a sterile cell, with only an info-screen as company. He turned it on, but seeing a smiling presenter reading out a news report from New New York he swiftly switched it off again. Another eleven years and they would all be dead - (It would happen because it had already happened, the timelines laid down in stone), nothing he could do about it, but it still made for depressing viewing now he was stuck here, trying to save just one single life...
He wasn’t exactly a stranger to death, but except for Jack (and Jack didn’t count) he’d never actually seen anyone he cared about die. Of course Torchwood had gone through quite a few people during his short life - and his father had slaughtered millions - but this was different.
In his mind death had always been linked with violence, and he’d never really considered illness (presuming it was a rogue virus of some sort, it seemed the best fit) as something that could take people from him. He hated the helpless feeling it brought - why had he never thought of studying medicine? He had been so horribly unprepared for this...
Ianto couldn’t die. Couldn’t. He’d been at Torchwood for as long as the Seeker could remember - the steady, calm centre around which Jack’s bright, explosive energy danced.
Jack was fond of remarking, voice light, that Ianto would follow in Gerald Carter’s footsteps and become the second person in Torchwood Cardiff to retire. Which the Seeker knew was Jack’s roundabout way of saying that he didn’t know what he’d do if the other man was taken before his time.
Then the door opened and yet another serene nurse appeared.
“Mr Saxon - I am happy to report that your friend is cured.”
The relief was so intense that he almost felt hollow, before happiness soared through him.
“Really? Oh God thank you! Thank you!” He spun her round joyfully, laughing, before realising that this was not really proper, and apologetically let go of her.
She regained her equilibrium, and he with suitable deference asked what the problem had been.
“A transmutation of Pallidome Pancrosis. The original kills in ten minutes, but the mutant strand was even more aggressive. Do you know how he was infected? If there has been an outbreak it needs to be stopped.”
Slowly he shook his head. “It’s complicated... I wish I knew, but I don’t.”
The nurse looked him over, pupils narrowing. “Also surprising is your own apparent well being. This virus attacks most known organisms...”
He smiled, knowing that they’d probably drag him off to a lab if he let on what he was.
“I’m very specially designed - my father was most particular...”
A slow nod followed, and he could tell that she was drawing her own conclusions - she’d think he was a rich kid (his ship would have told them that already), a carefully designed heir to some distant empire. Which wasn’t far from the truth, although his father was very thoroughly de-throned, thank Rassilon.
“Can I see him?” he asked, and, after one last check to make sure he was free from infection, he was taken through the hospital. It was clean and bright and airy, everything running smoothly and efficiently, and he couldn’t help but loving it. If he could have designed a hospital himself, this calm and ordered place would have been it.
Then he caught sight of himself in a reflective surface, and smiled as he instantly heard his mother’s voice in his head, reminding him that occasions like this were exactly why he should always be properly dressed - trainers, blue jeans and a white T-shirt not constituting anything resembling ‘proper’ in her opinion...
At least the black duffel coat was verging on appropriate, although Allie had - or so she claimed - bought it for him mostly because she thought he needed something warm to wear... (‘You’re only human Alex, you’ll catch your death walking around without a coat. And I prefer my boyfriend to be alive - a funny quirk I know, but that’s me.’) So, since he couldn’t let on that he could regulate his bodyheat far more efficiently than she knew, he wore the coat.
Then he was shown into Ianto’s room and he immediately refocussed on the here and now.
The other man was sitting up in bed, dressed in scrubs and yet - somehow or other - maintaining his dignity. But he didn’t speak until the nurse had left.
“Was that a cat?” he asked, slowly, and the Seeker nodded. “Yes. A cat nurse.”
“OK,” the Welshman replied, “I just wondered whether I was going insane or not. Which beggars the question - where exactly am I? Or...” his eyes narrowed, “should I say when?”
The Seeker hesitated for a moment. “You’re in a hospital. You... you were dying and I brought you here. Those cats saved your life!”
‘By killing other people’, his mind filled in. Closing his eyes, he briefly allowed himself to take in the horribly messy moral web he’d let himself become entangled in. But there was nothing to do about that - right now all that mattered was that Ianto was alive. He could feel guilty later.
Chapter 3.
Setting: 2027 (AU)
Characters: Jack, Ianto, OCs.
Warnings: Angst, character death.
Rating: PG-13?
Wordcount: 1750.
Stop. Think. Use your brain. You’re the cleverest boy in the world, you can do this!
Who would know what was wrong with Ianto? The answer was instant: the Doctor.
The Doctor would know, because the Doctor knew everything. More or less, anyway. But the Seeker was sure the Doctor would know.
Except... except diagnosis was only half the problem.
He needed someone - somewhere - with not only the knowledge to tell what this was (it could be anything, anything at all, damn that rift), but also the remedy at hand. Only where in the universe was a place like that?
Then the answer came to him - clear, logical and perfect - and if he’d not been so strapped for time he would have laughed out loud. Instead he grabbed Ianto, and in a flash teleported the two of them straight into the tiny medical bay of his spaceship.
With some difficulty, trying to stop his hands from shaking, he strapped the older man into the bed (unconscious people were so heavy), waiting for a few seconds to see if the auto doctor could work out what it was, but of course he wasn’t so lucky... The thing was as basic as could be, something he vowed to remedy as soon as possible.
Running forward to the cockpit he slipped into his seat whilst already programming the vortex manipulator - careful, careful, no time for error...
Then he was hurtling through the vortex, yet again reminded of why ordinary spaceships weren’t suited for travelling this way - the view always made him vertiginous, apart from the fact that the rapid freefall through time made his head tingle and spin.
Reality reappeared in an abrupt flash, galaxy M87 spread out around him and New Earth straight ahead. He fired up the engines, hit go, and then swore violently as he almost crashed into the space lanes in front of him.
After engaging the autopilot - as he should have done from the start! - he pressed a few buttons, and immediately a vimpled cat appeared on his screen, gazing at him benignly.
“A good day to you stranger. We are the Sisters of Plentitude, how may we help?”
He took a deep breath. “A good day to you too. I am Alexander Saxon. Tell me - can you cure anything?”
She dipped her head a little. “We humbly try to do our best-”
His hands curled into fists, despair and hope both gnawing at the edges of his mind, along with a fierce desire to make reality bend to his wishes by sheer force of will. “No! Just answer, yes or no - can you cure anything?”
It was year 5 billion and eighteen... Five years before the Doctor’s first visit - it might be too early for them to have developed their ‘cure’, the Doctor’s recount of the story had been so vague...
The cat smiled, exuding calm competence and reassurance. “If you have faith in the Sisterhood...”
He exhaled, forcing calm to the forefront. “Oh I have faith Sister. Listen - I’m bringing you a patient who is minutes - possibly seconds - away from death. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, it could be anything at all, poisoning, virus, gas, incubation... and I need you to save his life. I swear, I’ll bring you Arcadian diamonds as large as your head if you will just help.”
“Of course we will help,” came the answer, just the tiniest bit reproachful, “that is why we are here. What are the symptoms?”
“Symptoms... Um... Look, I’ll send the results of my medi-bay’s analysis, it might tell you something. Afraid you will have to quarantine off a section to bring him in, if he’s contagious he could start an epidemic - and it is possible that you have to put him in stasis while you diagnose him, although I’m not sure if that’ll slow the progress...”
The cat nodded, quickly scanning the incoming data, and then became busy issuing a host of orders, both verbal and electronic, before looking up at him again.
“If you could land at shuttle port 2, we will be ready to assist.”
“Thank you. Thank you. You have no idea...”
The relief was almost overwhelming, but he knew that nothing was saved yet.
As he deftly parked the ship he saw a medical team wrapped up in full body suits already waiting, and the moment he opened the hatch they swarmed onboard, whisking Ianto away.
Staring after them he knew that his part had been played and the only thing he could do now was pray... (What did he believe in? Time, he supposed - science, technology, logic... none of these exactly a fitting subject for prayer) and he almost jumped as a hand came to rest on his arm.
“Please pardon me, Mr Saxon, but I’m afraid you need to come this way. We will make sure to disinfect your ship, and you will need a thorough check-over. If this is indeed a contagious disease, you yourself could be infected.”
Blinking at the suited-up cat beside him, he hesitated momentarily.
“Just disinfect me for starters, OK? I’m not... I’m not exactly average. Seriously, my immune system is extremely advanced, so I might not be in any danger. Although if I start turning green...”
The medic nodded silently, and beckoned him to follow.
A little later the Seeker was stuck in a sterile cell, with only an info-screen as company. He turned it on, but seeing a smiling presenter reading out a news report from New New York he swiftly switched it off again. Another eleven years and they would all be dead - (It would happen because it had already happened, the timelines laid down in stone), nothing he could do about it, but it still made for depressing viewing now he was stuck here, trying to save just one single life...
He wasn’t exactly a stranger to death, but except for Jack (and Jack didn’t count) he’d never actually seen anyone he cared about die. Of course Torchwood had gone through quite a few people during his short life - and his father had slaughtered millions - but this was different.
In his mind death had always been linked with violence, and he’d never really considered illness (presuming it was a rogue virus of some sort, it seemed the best fit) as something that could take people from him. He hated the helpless feeling it brought - why had he never thought of studying medicine? He had been so horribly unprepared for this...
Ianto couldn’t die. Couldn’t. He’d been at Torchwood for as long as the Seeker could remember - the steady, calm centre around which Jack’s bright, explosive energy danced.
Jack was fond of remarking, voice light, that Ianto would follow in Gerald Carter’s footsteps and become the second person in Torchwood Cardiff to retire. Which the Seeker knew was Jack’s roundabout way of saying that he didn’t know what he’d do if the other man was taken before his time.
Then the door opened and yet another serene nurse appeared.
“Mr Saxon - I am happy to report that your friend is cured.”
The relief was so intense that he almost felt hollow, before happiness soared through him.
“Really? Oh God thank you! Thank you!” He spun her round joyfully, laughing, before realising that this was not really proper, and apologetically let go of her.
She regained her equilibrium, and he with suitable deference asked what the problem had been.
“A transmutation of Pallidome Pancrosis. The original kills in ten minutes, but the mutant strand was even more aggressive. Do you know how he was infected? If there has been an outbreak it needs to be stopped.”
Slowly he shook his head. “It’s complicated... I wish I knew, but I don’t.”
The nurse looked him over, pupils narrowing. “Also surprising is your own apparent well being. This virus attacks most known organisms...”
He smiled, knowing that they’d probably drag him off to a lab if he let on what he was.
“I’m very specially designed - my father was most particular...”
A slow nod followed, and he could tell that she was drawing her own conclusions - she’d think he was a rich kid (his ship would have told them that already), a carefully designed heir to some distant empire. Which wasn’t far from the truth, although his father was very thoroughly de-throned, thank Rassilon.
“Can I see him?” he asked, and, after one last check to make sure he was free from infection, he was taken through the hospital. It was clean and bright and airy, everything running smoothly and efficiently, and he couldn’t help but loving it. If he could have designed a hospital himself, this calm and ordered place would have been it.
Then he caught sight of himself in a reflective surface, and smiled as he instantly heard his mother’s voice in his head, reminding him that occasions like this were exactly why he should always be properly dressed - trainers, blue jeans and a white T-shirt not constituting anything resembling ‘proper’ in her opinion...
At least the black duffel coat was verging on appropriate, although Allie had - or so she claimed - bought it for him mostly because she thought he needed something warm to wear... (‘You’re only human Alex, you’ll catch your death walking around without a coat. And I prefer my boyfriend to be alive - a funny quirk I know, but that’s me.’) So, since he couldn’t let on that he could regulate his bodyheat far more efficiently than she knew, he wore the coat.
Then he was shown into Ianto’s room and he immediately refocussed on the here and now.
The other man was sitting up in bed, dressed in scrubs and yet - somehow or other - maintaining his dignity. But he didn’t speak until the nurse had left.
“Was that a cat?” he asked, slowly, and the Seeker nodded. “Yes. A cat nurse.”
“OK,” the Welshman replied, “I just wondered whether I was going insane or not. Which beggars the question - where exactly am I? Or...” his eyes narrowed, “should I say when?”
The Seeker hesitated for a moment. “You’re in a hospital. You... you were dying and I brought you here. Those cats saved your life!”
‘By killing other people’, his mind filled in. Closing his eyes, he briefly allowed himself to take in the horribly messy moral web he’d let himself become entangled in. But there was nothing to do about that - right now all that mattered was that Ianto was alive. He could feel guilty later.
Chapter 3.
no subject
I love Alex wearing a duffle coat to fit in; that's so perfect for his character.
::loves this 'verse::
no subject
Oooh! New New York-- the crazy cat nuns! Perfect solution
Isn't it just? The Seeker is very, very logical.
I expect the doctor will flip. Which might be entertaining, actually.
Heh. That's a pretty fair assessment, although he doesn't find out in this story. (Sorry. But I have it all worked out, and one day I'll get there, honestly!)
I love Alex wearing a duffle coat to fit in; that's so perfect for his character.
*grins* Thank you. Recently he's just invaded my head, and I have him worked out pretty well by now. (If you're curious as to how he met his girlfriend, then I sketched it out in this thread on Kathy's LJ.)
::loves this 'verse::
::loves YOU::