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Fic: Dating the Cleverest Boy in the World. Chapter 19.
And yet another Christmas... Takes place almost immediately post-'To Save a Life'.
Fic index here if anyone wants to catch up, or just follow the tags. Also on AO3 and The Teaspoon.
Summary: Allison had always thought that university would be an adventure. But she'd not imagined that she'd end up dating Harold Saxon's son.
Setting: Christmas 2027
Characters (this chapter): Alex and Allison and other OCs.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 4500 words.
Feedback: Pretty please? (Posting in the middle of show-season isn't great, but this just ate my head.)
Chapter 19
Very early Boxing Day morning, 2027
Mars was far less hostile than Allison had expected. No need for space suits or anything like that.
Jamie was helping Adelaide and Josh build a giant castle, full of strange tunnels inside, which Allison didn't think were very sensible from an architectural point of view, but Josh just waved her objections away, so she walked out the giant triangular door. Outside there were lots of tall, willowy purple aliens with butterfly wings, standing on ladders. There was a very good reason for this she knew, although she couldn't remember it at the moment.
Someone had brought a little train - one of those miniature ones kids could ride on - and she waved to her niece and nephews as it went past. The sky was orange, which gave her an odd sense of deja vu.
Then - as she was in the middle of a discussion with Chelsea about sunscreen and white outfits (Chelsea was doing some reporting for Fox News) - there was a flash and Alex appeared. He was somehow Alex and not-Alex at the same time, and he sat down next to her (she was simultaneously in her bed at home as well as being on Mars she realised), gently stroking her cheek and talking in some strange, but beautiful, language that she couldn't understand. He seemed terribly sad.
Hovering between waking and dreaming, it slowly dawned on her that there was actually someone in her room...
Heart beating wildly she abruptly sat up, with sleep-induced delay realising that it was only Alex sitting at the side of her bed... Which threw up another host of questions.
Desperately trying to clear her mind she reached out and turned her bedside light on, glancing at the alarm clock in the process.
"Alex! What the hell you doing here? You frightened me half to death. It's half-past two!"
"I can't sleep," he said, voice oddly toneless, and she looked at him more closely, noticing an uncharacteristic listlessness, and hollows under his eyes.
"Alex... You look terrible, I thought you were home in bed, poorly. How- why-"
He'd been off shopping, goodness knew where (someplace in Europe presumably), but called up the day he’d returned to England, explaining that he was ill and was going straight home instead of coming back to Cambridge. He'd said that he might come along to her parents’ for Boxing Day, but that didn't explain why he was suddenly in her bedroom in the middle of the night. How had he got here?
"I'm not ill," he said, watching her impassively. "I lied, sorry. It was the only thing I could think of.”
His brow drew together, and he seemed to look straight through her as he continued talking.
“I’m not exactly OK, though. I thought I was coping well, all things considered, but this must be some kind of delayed reaction..."
"Alex... what on earth are you talking about?"
"I can't sleep," he repeated. "Every time I close my eyes I see their faces."
She swallowed, and gingerly took his hand, causing him to shiver. She’d only seen him like this once before, and she couldn’t imagine that he’d been to see another Babushka to have his fortune told...
“Whose faces? Alex, please explain what’s happening, because you’re scaring me.”
Slowly, by continually asking questions and getting him to focus (not easy), the story emerged.
On his way to Cambridge he’d stopped off at Torchwood to hand out presents to Jack and the other people working there. Except when he’d arrived he’d found most of the employees dead. He had managed to save Ianto by getting him to a hospital with no time to spare, but the others had been beyond help. Jack had apparently been the only one not in danger. (He drifted off at this point.)
This information was relayed with such calmness that she found it hard to wrap her head around the reality of what he was telling her. Especially when he then explained that he’d spent the last few days leading up to Christmas helping Jack clear up, which involved taking care of the bodies (Torchwood apparently froze their dead), then packing up the dead employees’ lives before storing them away and creating fake deaths for their families and the wider world.
“And Jack just... let you do this?” she asked, horrified. She had expected counselling or similar... That kind of shock and trauma - how the hell could Jack have let him leave without any kind of support?
Alex shook his head, still much too quiet.
“Not exactly. I had to pretty much force him to accept my help.”
“He shouldn’t have agreed,” she said firmly, and for the first time his eyes seemed to come alive.
“I wasn’t about to let him do it on his own!” he replied angrily. “Do you have any idea how many friends he has buried? How short the life span of a Torchwood employee is? Ianto was in the hospital, so he couldn’t help - and besides he watched them die, unable to help. I-”
Whatever he was going to say was cut off by something like a sob, and he briefly buried his head in his hands.
“Sorry,” she said, at a loss. What were you supposed to do in cases like this? He was very obviously hugely traumatised, but...
Lowering his hands, he studied them with a frown.
“They’re shaking,” he said, and she felt the sting of tears. He sounded so helpless and unsure in the face of something perfectly normal under the circumstances.
Watching his hands intently he waited for them to stop, before looking at her again.
“No I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to... shout. But it was good to be busy. As long as there was something to do I was doing fine. Yesterday was hell. My parents didn’t know what had happened, and thought I was just hung over. And the Doctor...” A deep sigh. “We had a good talk - a really good talk, the first since- since we fell out, but he was still feeling so guilty. He is like a guilt sponge, and he was hovering all day, wanting to help.”
A strange little smile, which for the briefest moment made him look more like himself.
“Mind you, there is an upside... He decided that he’d give me my freedom back - as a Christmas present. Just like that. I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want...”
He pressed his lips together, the smile wobbling as he seemed to fight several different emotions at the same time.
“And I don’t want to go anywhere at all.”
Looking at her again, he shook his head lightly.
“It’s how he copes you see - running away. But no matter where I go, I’ll still see their faces when I close my eyes. All I want is just to sleep...”
“Alex,” she said slowly, mentally adding up the hollows under his eyes and the disconnected nature of his conversation. “How much have you slept since-”
“Since it happened?” He thought for a moment. “Five hours. Maybe six.”
Six hours over four days. No wonder he was losing it...
“Must have been the alcohol that made me sleep last night,” he added, thoughtfully. “But I don't particularly want to go down that path again - becoming an alcoholic age 20 doesn’t seem a particularly good idea. Besides which, I dread to think what my father would do to me if I raided his drinks cabinet. Most of his whiskies are older than me. I just... I just wish I could stop thinking.”
She didn’t know what to do, so said the only thing that came to mind.
“Do you want to... sleep with me?”
Having been living together for a good few months she felt slightly silly for asking, but he nodded solemnly, and carefully undressed before slipping under the duvet and into her arms.
“Can I turn the light off?” she asked, unsure, and he did a little huff that almost sounded like a chuckle:
“Makes no difference. No difference at all.”
As she flicked off the light he buried his head into her shoulder, speaking more to himself than her as far as she could work out - it sounded as if he was quoting something, his voice soft and dreamy and barely above a whisper:
“Remember. Everywhere, always, the stars burn and fall through the darkness, neither light nor darkness caring for the sweep of history, for the pain of lives lost or won. Whole civilisations, races, and planets, turning to ash and dust, for such is the weight and inevitability of time. And we must never alter the natural flow of cause and effect.”
As she drifted off to sleep again, she thought she heard him add “But that won’t stop me bending the rules,” but when she concentrated she could tell that he was breathing evenly and she assigned it to being half-asleep herself.
***
Her alarm woke her at 8 (busy day ahead), but although Alex didn’t stir he opened his eyes as soon as she moved.
“Morning,” she said hesitantly, and he did a little half-smile.
“Morning. Merry Christmas?”
She didn’t know how to reply (the simple phrase suddenly seemed so very inappropriate), but he merely sat up, the half-smile widening.
“So - would you like your Christmas present?”
“Of course... I mean yes. Please,” she replied, a little thrown and unsure about the sharp shift in his mood from earlier. This whole suppressing and pretending wasn’t healthy. But she didn’t know how to phrase that in a way that wouldn’t result in being shot down. And then she was distracted by the prospect of Christmas Present. How he could top last year he had no idea, but she was sure he’d thought of something...
Fetching a bag, he brought out a box that looked like it had come from Tiffany’s, except it was orange. He held it out, looking oddly nervous.
“I hope you like it. I... made it myself.”
Having half expected it to be something exotic and European, she carefully undid the silk bow before opening the box, and then had to suppress a gasp.
It was jewellery...
Gleaming against white silk was an intricately woven gold necklace, with a large red pendant that glowed like pure fire. When she eventually was able to tear her eyes away he carefully explained.
“It’s called a Red Point Star.”
“I... I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You wouldn’t,” he smiled. “Can I put it on you?”
“I... Oh I’ll need to find something that goes with it to wear first!”
The smile deepened.
“Oh you don’t need to wear anything.”
“Shut up you,” she replied, realising that his attempt at normality might not be a bad idea. Especially with the craziness that was Boxing Day in her home. But even when she’d found a dress that didn’t let the diamond down too badly, and he’d gotten dressed in some nice trousers and a proper shirt (without her having to nag, which showed how unsettled he was) she still had to shake her head when she looked at him.
“Alex you look... really bad.”
Turning he studied himself in her mirror, tilting his head to catch the light better, and frowning as he caught her eyes.
“Of course I look bad. My emotional state is manifesting itself physically... Yet another thing I’ve not even begun to master.” A sigh. “The Doctor can walk through war zones and genocide without so much as a hair out of place.”
Gently turning his face towards her she suddenly felt very protective.
“That’s not a good thing. I actually find that... more disturbing.”
He lowered his eyes.
“Suppose. But it sure comes in useful.”
A little later she deposited him on a sofa with a blanket, explaining to her mother how he’d turned up before the crack of dawn, even though he was still unwell. Her mother of course took one look at him, said “Oh you poor thing, you look terrible!” and set off to add chicken soup to her list food needing to be prepared.
Amanda and Kingstone came down a few moments later with the children, and exclaimed at length about her necklace. Kingstone especially was thoroughly fascinated.
Studying it carefully, he ended up shaking his head in wonder.
“I’ve heard about red diamonds, but never seen one. This must have cost...” he stared at Allison before letting his eyes slide to Alex with genuine bafflement. “And the sheer size... Young man, where did you say you got this?”
Alex blew on his chicken soup, and met Kingstone’s eyes calmly.
“Made it myself.”
Looking as if he suspected Alex to be lying through his teeth, Kingstone shook his head again.
“Allison - if he ever tells you where he got it, let me know, OK? That is the most extraordinary piece of jewellery I’ve ever seen.”
Slightly unsettled (especially given Alex’s quietly smug smile) Allison nodded, but then her mother called, and she was soon too caught up in preparations to worry about the oddness surrounding her beautiful present. Still she tried her best to keep an eye on Alex as she went to and fro, and at one point discovered that the neighbour’s ginger tom cat had snuck in, finding Alex deep in conversation with it.
She had a feeling she should have expected this.
“No, proper nuns, with wimples,” he said, mimicking the head wear as the cat’s eyes narrowed, before it uttered a skeptical ‘Braow’ (why did cats almost always sound skeptical?) and Alex chuckled.
“Oh I don’t think you are the religious type - the name for starters would have to go...”
Then she remembered that she was supposed to get the snacks up from the cellar, and left him to it. Disappearing off into a little fantasy world was probably good for him. Unless it would make things worse? She really needed to look into how to deal with this. She knew him well enough to be sure that he’d refuse therapy.
A little later Toby interrupted her snack distribution, literally stopping her by taking hold of the bowl in her hand.
“Allie, can I talk to you?”
“Now?” she asked, distracted, but Toby didn’t move.
“Yes please,” he simply said, and she resignedly nodded acquiescence. He’d not take no for an answer, she knew that much.
They went up to Jimmy’s room to get some quiet space, and Allison sat down on the bed, feeling unhappy and apprehensive. This was the last thing she needed on top of everything else...
“Allison - what happened to Alex?”
She stared at her brother, startled at the unexpected question, and he smiled a smile that wasn’t a smile at all.
“Let me guess - he can’t sleep, can’t stop thinking about what-ever-happened, and refuses to get help?”
“How- how do you-?”
She had half expected her mother to notice that something more than plain illness was afoot, but Toby? Toby wasn’t good with... well, people. And certainly not with reading them.
Toby sighed, and folded his hands.
“Troy. I... met him by chance, gave him my number because... well, he’s just gorgeous. Didn’t hear from him for months after that, had almost forgotten about the whole thing, when he called up one night - and I mean the middle of the night - asking if he could stay, just for the night, because he had nowhere else. You know how mum and dad were always so worried about Ella when she went out? Troy never had anyone worry about him. I can still see him - it was raining, and he was soaked, because he had no money. Didn’t have anything except the clothes he was wearing and his phone. If he hadn’t, by chance, kept my number-”
He broke off, stared into the distance, before taking a deep breath and pulling himself together.
“The bruises faded, but he still has the nightmares, and it’s been more than a year.”
Catching her eyes he slowly continued. “I was going to say I’ve never seen anyone look like that. Until I saw Alex today. That delayed shock is unmistakable.”
Allison didn’t know what to say. The story Toby had told last year (‘I asked Troy to move in because he didn’t have a permanent place to stay, and then romance blossomed’), was light years away from ‘He turned up on my doorstep after having been assaulted, so I took him in’... And she’d threatened to beat him to death with a shovel. No wonder Toby had lost it. (Of course there was assault and assault... She didn’t dare ask, although Troy being Troy she had a feeling she could probably make an educated guess.)
And Toby had been dealing with this all on his own... Had maybe hoped that he could share some of it with her, but last year she had been too busy turning into a protective jerk to even notice.
“Sorry Toby,” she finally managed. “I had no idea. Alex said that Troy probably had a difficult upbringing, but I never thought...”
“Oh he was bullied mercilessly. And... someone... hurt him. Screwed him up on a monumental scale, but he refuses to talk about it.”
Shaking her head she took his hand, hoping it wasn’t too late to make amends. “Toby - I’m just now realising that I’ve been a very bad sister. I should have been there for you, instead of trying to decided what was best for you. Just tell me - are you happy?”
“Yes,” he said immediately, smiling like he used to back when they were little and she had saved up to buy him whatever toy he was currently obsessed with. “Yes I am happy. He’s hard work at times, but... I just can’t believe that he’s actually mine. Plus,” and his smile turned fifty shades of mischievous, “he’s like a Swiss army knife in the bedroom.”
“Toby!” she exclaimed, spluttering and withdrawing her hand in order to cover her mouth as she vividly remembered all the times she’d tried to shield him. And then something seemed to unfurl. Some sort of relief, or gratitude - a feeling she’d never experienced before. She had an older brother. She had someone to lean on. She wasn’t alone.
“Toby... What do I do with Alex? How do I... I don’t know... support him? Just - what do I do?”
***
When they eventually returned downstairs (after their mother had called several times, before sending Jimmy to fetch them), they stopped in the doorway to the front room. Troy had taken the unoccupied seat on the sofa next to Alex, the tom cat looking as if it was patting Troy on the head with one of its paw as Alex’s eyes were dancing with mirth.
Allison tilted her head, studying them. Troy had obviously decided that he wanted to join Alex in his cat-talking, as the two of them were conversing with the cat with great intensity, and she couldn’t help but voice her thoughts.
“Toby, answer me this. Amanda and Ella have perfectly normal guys - why are the two of us drawn to the weird, damaged ones?”
“They’re far more interesting?” Toby offered, then shrugged. “And Amanda and Ella are - well, you know. So busy rebelling against dad, I don’t think they could cope with someone out of the ordinary.”
Allison had to laugh then. She’d missed Toby’s brutally honest dissections. Then their mother turned up and gave them each a list of jobs to do a mile long.
“Half an hour until the hordes descend!” she said, at which exact moment there was a knock on the door.
“Good heavens!” she exclaimed, throwing off her apron and tossing it at Allison.
“Right. Here we go...”
***
Family, family, family. Family in every nook and cranny. Children playing hide and seek, grandparents and and great-aunts and -uncles remembering yesteryear, cousins sharing photos, and distant relations catching up.
“So you met the King? Seriously?”
Allison nodded, and with alacrity launched into the story. She had told it half a dozen times already, but she still relished it.
“Alex’s family are always at the Cenotaph for Remembrance Sunday, so we were there, me and him and his mum and uncle - as well as Jack and Ianto who are family friends and sort of Secret Service people? And we were right at the front and everything. Oh and then we were joined by Luke Smith and his mother. Yes, the Luke Smith!”
Cousin Beth stared in amazement.
“Oh my god. Didn’t you use to have lots of pictures of him?”
“I can’t believe you remember that! Yes, I did - he was totally my hero when I was little. Alex mentioned once that he was a family friend, but I never knew how close. He’s so nice in real life! And his mother is just adorable. Very old and frail, but seriously charming and they kept going on about how she should be covered in medals. She did lots of ‘covert’ stuff in her youth apparently - maybe she was some sort of undercover agent, I don’t know. Anyway then - after the ceremony - the King came up to us and I thought I was going to faint...”
She didn’t get any further as Alex suddenly hushed everyone in the room, and turned the volume up on the TV. Confused, the gathered relations fell silent as the TV presenter spoke.
“A young doctor is being labelled ‘The Christmas Hero’, after giving his life to save that of a toddler. Our correspondent is in Cardiff...”
The news report that followed told the story a Dr Nathan Fen, a quiet young doctor, who on Christmas Eve threw himself in front of a small boy when a car lost control and swerved onto the pavement - saving the boy’s life, but sustaining fatal injuries and dying at the scene.
Although moving, Allison found the thing slightly distasteful - especially the way the media milked the story for all it was worth, talking to the grateful parents (the mother crying) who claimed that to them he would always be ‘The Christmas Hero’ and they would never forget him, showcasing endless footage of the little lad (who was of course too cute for words), as well as talking to Dr Fen’s neighbours and colleagues who all said that he was very quiet and unassuming and dedicated. On top of all this the poor man apparently did not have any family, but the Mayor of Cardiff had a small press conference to honour the valiant ‘Christmas Hero’, pledging to give him a proper send-off.
She could already imagine the TV drama writers getting ready to dramatise it for next year... Of course they’d recast the main character, as Dr Fen seemed to have been rather light and prematurely balding...
“Alex, are you OK?” she heard her mother asking, and he made a noncommittal noise.
“I... sorry to shush you all...” he looked around the room, oddly lost, “...but I knew him. I didn’t realise that-”
“Oh my god!” her mother exclaimed, immediately rushing to him and giving him a big hug. “What a shock for you. And what a brave man he was! Is there anything we can do? They said something about a charity in his name, didn’t they? Or maybe we could send some flowers for the funeral...”
Chatter broke out again, but Allison suddenly felt a chill go through her.
It was probably a coincidence... but she needed to be sure.
Extracting Alex from the five different cousins who were suddenly keen to give their condolences along with finding out as much information as they could, (“Sorry, but he’s not well! Alex, please come with me...”) she brought him upstairs and sat him down on her bed, taking a seat on the chair beside it, desperately hoping she was wrong.
“Listen... I don’t want to upset you further, but this Dr Fen... Was he one of the Torchwood people?”
Alex nodded, and she could feel her heart sink.
“Nathan. Yes.”
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she pressed her palms together.
“Alex, sorry, but - if this man died on Wednesday, how did he save a toddler on Friday?”
A tired smile.
“With enormous difficulty.”
“Alex please...”
For the longest moment he just studied her, before his eyes narrowed the tiniest fraction.
“If I said that Jack was a time traveller from the future, would you believe me?”
She sighed.
“Don’t. Just don’t.”
Bowing his head, he went very quiet, almost seeming to shrink before her eyes:
“Fine. Not doing that now. Not a good time. Point taken.”
Then he finally lifted his head again, that terribly sadness evident again.
“Allison, just... Let me try to explain why... Unlike Afsana and Sylvia, Nathan had no family. No friends outside Torchwood. He was so quiet even his nextdoor neighbours had barely spoken two words with him in five years. And he saved the world - more than once, probably. I couldn’t-” he swallowed. “I needed his death to matter, OK? Needed for people to care, needed for someone out in the real world to mourn him now that he’s gone... Too many heroes die unsung. I didn’t want him to be one of them. So we rigged it, Jack and I. I had no idea the story would get picked up by the media though... that must have been Ianto's doing.”
A soft smile, which she ignored completely.
“Alex! A child could have died!”
She was too appalled for words, but the softness in his eyes vanished as he shook his head, leaving only steel and determination.
“A child is alive! If not for us he would have been dead.”
“You can’t know that. I... understand that you’re in shock, that you wanted to honour your friend, but this?”
Face like a mask, he shook his head, and she knew the argument was lost. The look was unmistakable.
“I can know that. We saved that boy’s life. We just let Nathan take the credit.”
Then suddenly the mask seemed to crack, and he reached out, touched her face. There were tears in his eyes and she could feel the tremor in his hand.
“My Allie - never stop challenging me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Just this time, please believe me - we saved a life. There was so much death, but we saved a life. And that... was my Christmas.”
Maybe it was the hint of desperation in his voice, or the genuine pleading - the latter of which was something new. But (almost in spite of herself, except he so very clearly believed it himself) she leaned forward and kissed him gently.
“I believe you.”
TBC.
Fic index here if anyone wants to catch up, or just follow the tags. Also on AO3 and The Teaspoon.
Summary: Allison had always thought that university would be an adventure. But she'd not imagined that she'd end up dating Harold Saxon's son.
Setting: Christmas 2027
Characters (this chapter): Alex and Allison and other OCs.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 4500 words.
Feedback: Pretty please? (Posting in the middle of show-season isn't great, but this just ate my head.)
Very early Boxing Day morning, 2027
Mars was far less hostile than Allison had expected. No need for space suits or anything like that.
Jamie was helping Adelaide and Josh build a giant castle, full of strange tunnels inside, which Allison didn't think were very sensible from an architectural point of view, but Josh just waved her objections away, so she walked out the giant triangular door. Outside there were lots of tall, willowy purple aliens with butterfly wings, standing on ladders. There was a very good reason for this she knew, although she couldn't remember it at the moment.
Someone had brought a little train - one of those miniature ones kids could ride on - and she waved to her niece and nephews as it went past. The sky was orange, which gave her an odd sense of deja vu.
Then - as she was in the middle of a discussion with Chelsea about sunscreen and white outfits (Chelsea was doing some reporting for Fox News) - there was a flash and Alex appeared. He was somehow Alex and not-Alex at the same time, and he sat down next to her (she was simultaneously in her bed at home as well as being on Mars she realised), gently stroking her cheek and talking in some strange, but beautiful, language that she couldn't understand. He seemed terribly sad.
Hovering between waking and dreaming, it slowly dawned on her that there was actually someone in her room...
Heart beating wildly she abruptly sat up, with sleep-induced delay realising that it was only Alex sitting at the side of her bed... Which threw up another host of questions.
Desperately trying to clear her mind she reached out and turned her bedside light on, glancing at the alarm clock in the process.
"Alex! What the hell you doing here? You frightened me half to death. It's half-past two!"
"I can't sleep," he said, voice oddly toneless, and she looked at him more closely, noticing an uncharacteristic listlessness, and hollows under his eyes.
"Alex... You look terrible, I thought you were home in bed, poorly. How- why-"
He'd been off shopping, goodness knew where (someplace in Europe presumably), but called up the day he’d returned to England, explaining that he was ill and was going straight home instead of coming back to Cambridge. He'd said that he might come along to her parents’ for Boxing Day, but that didn't explain why he was suddenly in her bedroom in the middle of the night. How had he got here?
"I'm not ill," he said, watching her impassively. "I lied, sorry. It was the only thing I could think of.”
His brow drew together, and he seemed to look straight through her as he continued talking.
“I’m not exactly OK, though. I thought I was coping well, all things considered, but this must be some kind of delayed reaction..."
"Alex... what on earth are you talking about?"
"I can't sleep," he repeated. "Every time I close my eyes I see their faces."
She swallowed, and gingerly took his hand, causing him to shiver. She’d only seen him like this once before, and she couldn’t imagine that he’d been to see another Babushka to have his fortune told...
“Whose faces? Alex, please explain what’s happening, because you’re scaring me.”
Slowly, by continually asking questions and getting him to focus (not easy), the story emerged.
On his way to Cambridge he’d stopped off at Torchwood to hand out presents to Jack and the other people working there. Except when he’d arrived he’d found most of the employees dead. He had managed to save Ianto by getting him to a hospital with no time to spare, but the others had been beyond help. Jack had apparently been the only one not in danger. (He drifted off at this point.)
This information was relayed with such calmness that she found it hard to wrap her head around the reality of what he was telling her. Especially when he then explained that he’d spent the last few days leading up to Christmas helping Jack clear up, which involved taking care of the bodies (Torchwood apparently froze their dead), then packing up the dead employees’ lives before storing them away and creating fake deaths for their families and the wider world.
“And Jack just... let you do this?” she asked, horrified. She had expected counselling or similar... That kind of shock and trauma - how the hell could Jack have let him leave without any kind of support?
Alex shook his head, still much too quiet.
“Not exactly. I had to pretty much force him to accept my help.”
“He shouldn’t have agreed,” she said firmly, and for the first time his eyes seemed to come alive.
“I wasn’t about to let him do it on his own!” he replied angrily. “Do you have any idea how many friends he has buried? How short the life span of a Torchwood employee is? Ianto was in the hospital, so he couldn’t help - and besides he watched them die, unable to help. I-”
Whatever he was going to say was cut off by something like a sob, and he briefly buried his head in his hands.
“Sorry,” she said, at a loss. What were you supposed to do in cases like this? He was very obviously hugely traumatised, but...
Lowering his hands, he studied them with a frown.
“They’re shaking,” he said, and she felt the sting of tears. He sounded so helpless and unsure in the face of something perfectly normal under the circumstances.
Watching his hands intently he waited for them to stop, before looking at her again.
“No I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to... shout. But it was good to be busy. As long as there was something to do I was doing fine. Yesterday was hell. My parents didn’t know what had happened, and thought I was just hung over. And the Doctor...” A deep sigh. “We had a good talk - a really good talk, the first since- since we fell out, but he was still feeling so guilty. He is like a guilt sponge, and he was hovering all day, wanting to help.”
A strange little smile, which for the briefest moment made him look more like himself.
“Mind you, there is an upside... He decided that he’d give me my freedom back - as a Christmas present. Just like that. I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want...”
He pressed his lips together, the smile wobbling as he seemed to fight several different emotions at the same time.
“And I don’t want to go anywhere at all.”
Looking at her again, he shook his head lightly.
“It’s how he copes you see - running away. But no matter where I go, I’ll still see their faces when I close my eyes. All I want is just to sleep...”
“Alex,” she said slowly, mentally adding up the hollows under his eyes and the disconnected nature of his conversation. “How much have you slept since-”
“Since it happened?” He thought for a moment. “Five hours. Maybe six.”
Six hours over four days. No wonder he was losing it...
“Must have been the alcohol that made me sleep last night,” he added, thoughtfully. “But I don't particularly want to go down that path again - becoming an alcoholic age 20 doesn’t seem a particularly good idea. Besides which, I dread to think what my father would do to me if I raided his drinks cabinet. Most of his whiskies are older than me. I just... I just wish I could stop thinking.”
She didn’t know what to do, so said the only thing that came to mind.
“Do you want to... sleep with me?”
Having been living together for a good few months she felt slightly silly for asking, but he nodded solemnly, and carefully undressed before slipping under the duvet and into her arms.
“Can I turn the light off?” she asked, unsure, and he did a little huff that almost sounded like a chuckle:
“Makes no difference. No difference at all.”
As she flicked off the light he buried his head into her shoulder, speaking more to himself than her as far as she could work out - it sounded as if he was quoting something, his voice soft and dreamy and barely above a whisper:
“Remember. Everywhere, always, the stars burn and fall through the darkness, neither light nor darkness caring for the sweep of history, for the pain of lives lost or won. Whole civilisations, races, and planets, turning to ash and dust, for such is the weight and inevitability of time. And we must never alter the natural flow of cause and effect.”
As she drifted off to sleep again, she thought she heard him add “But that won’t stop me bending the rules,” but when she concentrated she could tell that he was breathing evenly and she assigned it to being half-asleep herself.
Her alarm woke her at 8 (busy day ahead), but although Alex didn’t stir he opened his eyes as soon as she moved.
“Morning,” she said hesitantly, and he did a little half-smile.
“Morning. Merry Christmas?”
She didn’t know how to reply (the simple phrase suddenly seemed so very inappropriate), but he merely sat up, the half-smile widening.
“So - would you like your Christmas present?”
“Of course... I mean yes. Please,” she replied, a little thrown and unsure about the sharp shift in his mood from earlier. This whole suppressing and pretending wasn’t healthy. But she didn’t know how to phrase that in a way that wouldn’t result in being shot down. And then she was distracted by the prospect of Christmas Present. How he could top last year he had no idea, but she was sure he’d thought of something...
Fetching a bag, he brought out a box that looked like it had come from Tiffany’s, except it was orange. He held it out, looking oddly nervous.
“I hope you like it. I... made it myself.”
Having half expected it to be something exotic and European, she carefully undid the silk bow before opening the box, and then had to suppress a gasp.
It was jewellery...
Gleaming against white silk was an intricately woven gold necklace, with a large red pendant that glowed like pure fire. When she eventually was able to tear her eyes away he carefully explained.
“It’s called a Red Point Star.”
“I... I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You wouldn’t,” he smiled. “Can I put it on you?”
“I... Oh I’ll need to find something that goes with it to wear first!”
The smile deepened.
“Oh you don’t need to wear anything.”
“Shut up you,” she replied, realising that his attempt at normality might not be a bad idea. Especially with the craziness that was Boxing Day in her home. But even when she’d found a dress that didn’t let the diamond down too badly, and he’d gotten dressed in some nice trousers and a proper shirt (without her having to nag, which showed how unsettled he was) she still had to shake her head when she looked at him.
“Alex you look... really bad.”
Turning he studied himself in her mirror, tilting his head to catch the light better, and frowning as he caught her eyes.
“Of course I look bad. My emotional state is manifesting itself physically... Yet another thing I’ve not even begun to master.” A sigh. “The Doctor can walk through war zones and genocide without so much as a hair out of place.”
Gently turning his face towards her she suddenly felt very protective.
“That’s not a good thing. I actually find that... more disturbing.”
He lowered his eyes.
“Suppose. But it sure comes in useful.”
A little later she deposited him on a sofa with a blanket, explaining to her mother how he’d turned up before the crack of dawn, even though he was still unwell. Her mother of course took one look at him, said “Oh you poor thing, you look terrible!” and set off to add chicken soup to her list food needing to be prepared.
Amanda and Kingstone came down a few moments later with the children, and exclaimed at length about her necklace. Kingstone especially was thoroughly fascinated.
Studying it carefully, he ended up shaking his head in wonder.
“I’ve heard about red diamonds, but never seen one. This must have cost...” he stared at Allison before letting his eyes slide to Alex with genuine bafflement. “And the sheer size... Young man, where did you say you got this?”
Alex blew on his chicken soup, and met Kingstone’s eyes calmly.
“Made it myself.”
Looking as if he suspected Alex to be lying through his teeth, Kingstone shook his head again.
“Allison - if he ever tells you where he got it, let me know, OK? That is the most extraordinary piece of jewellery I’ve ever seen.”
Slightly unsettled (especially given Alex’s quietly smug smile) Allison nodded, but then her mother called, and she was soon too caught up in preparations to worry about the oddness surrounding her beautiful present. Still she tried her best to keep an eye on Alex as she went to and fro, and at one point discovered that the neighbour’s ginger tom cat had snuck in, finding Alex deep in conversation with it.
She had a feeling she should have expected this.
“No, proper nuns, with wimples,” he said, mimicking the head wear as the cat’s eyes narrowed, before it uttered a skeptical ‘Braow’ (why did cats almost always sound skeptical?) and Alex chuckled.
“Oh I don’t think you are the religious type - the name for starters would have to go...”
Then she remembered that she was supposed to get the snacks up from the cellar, and left him to it. Disappearing off into a little fantasy world was probably good for him. Unless it would make things worse? She really needed to look into how to deal with this. She knew him well enough to be sure that he’d refuse therapy.
A little later Toby interrupted her snack distribution, literally stopping her by taking hold of the bowl in her hand.
“Allie, can I talk to you?”
“Now?” she asked, distracted, but Toby didn’t move.
“Yes please,” he simply said, and she resignedly nodded acquiescence. He’d not take no for an answer, she knew that much.
They went up to Jimmy’s room to get some quiet space, and Allison sat down on the bed, feeling unhappy and apprehensive. This was the last thing she needed on top of everything else...
“Allison - what happened to Alex?”
She stared at her brother, startled at the unexpected question, and he smiled a smile that wasn’t a smile at all.
“Let me guess - he can’t sleep, can’t stop thinking about what-ever-happened, and refuses to get help?”
“How- how do you-?”
She had half expected her mother to notice that something more than plain illness was afoot, but Toby? Toby wasn’t good with... well, people. And certainly not with reading them.
Toby sighed, and folded his hands.
“Troy. I... met him by chance, gave him my number because... well, he’s just gorgeous. Didn’t hear from him for months after that, had almost forgotten about the whole thing, when he called up one night - and I mean the middle of the night - asking if he could stay, just for the night, because he had nowhere else. You know how mum and dad were always so worried about Ella when she went out? Troy never had anyone worry about him. I can still see him - it was raining, and he was soaked, because he had no money. Didn’t have anything except the clothes he was wearing and his phone. If he hadn’t, by chance, kept my number-”
He broke off, stared into the distance, before taking a deep breath and pulling himself together.
“The bruises faded, but he still has the nightmares, and it’s been more than a year.”
Catching her eyes he slowly continued. “I was going to say I’ve never seen anyone look like that. Until I saw Alex today. That delayed shock is unmistakable.”
Allison didn’t know what to say. The story Toby had told last year (‘I asked Troy to move in because he didn’t have a permanent place to stay, and then romance blossomed’), was light years away from ‘He turned up on my doorstep after having been assaulted, so I took him in’... And she’d threatened to beat him to death with a shovel. No wonder Toby had lost it. (Of course there was assault and assault... She didn’t dare ask, although Troy being Troy she had a feeling she could probably make an educated guess.)
And Toby had been dealing with this all on his own... Had maybe hoped that he could share some of it with her, but last year she had been too busy turning into a protective jerk to even notice.
“Sorry Toby,” she finally managed. “I had no idea. Alex said that Troy probably had a difficult upbringing, but I never thought...”
“Oh he was bullied mercilessly. And... someone... hurt him. Screwed him up on a monumental scale, but he refuses to talk about it.”
Shaking her head she took his hand, hoping it wasn’t too late to make amends. “Toby - I’m just now realising that I’ve been a very bad sister. I should have been there for you, instead of trying to decided what was best for you. Just tell me - are you happy?”
“Yes,” he said immediately, smiling like he used to back when they were little and she had saved up to buy him whatever toy he was currently obsessed with. “Yes I am happy. He’s hard work at times, but... I just can’t believe that he’s actually mine. Plus,” and his smile turned fifty shades of mischievous, “he’s like a Swiss army knife in the bedroom.”
“Toby!” she exclaimed, spluttering and withdrawing her hand in order to cover her mouth as she vividly remembered all the times she’d tried to shield him. And then something seemed to unfurl. Some sort of relief, or gratitude - a feeling she’d never experienced before. She had an older brother. She had someone to lean on. She wasn’t alone.
“Toby... What do I do with Alex? How do I... I don’t know... support him? Just - what do I do?”
When they eventually returned downstairs (after their mother had called several times, before sending Jimmy to fetch them), they stopped in the doorway to the front room. Troy had taken the unoccupied seat on the sofa next to Alex, the tom cat looking as if it was patting Troy on the head with one of its paw as Alex’s eyes were dancing with mirth.
Allison tilted her head, studying them. Troy had obviously decided that he wanted to join Alex in his cat-talking, as the two of them were conversing with the cat with great intensity, and she couldn’t help but voice her thoughts.
“Toby, answer me this. Amanda and Ella have perfectly normal guys - why are the two of us drawn to the weird, damaged ones?”
“They’re far more interesting?” Toby offered, then shrugged. “And Amanda and Ella are - well, you know. So busy rebelling against dad, I don’t think they could cope with someone out of the ordinary.”
Allison had to laugh then. She’d missed Toby’s brutally honest dissections. Then their mother turned up and gave them each a list of jobs to do a mile long.
“Half an hour until the hordes descend!” she said, at which exact moment there was a knock on the door.
“Good heavens!” she exclaimed, throwing off her apron and tossing it at Allison.
“Right. Here we go...”
Family, family, family. Family in every nook and cranny. Children playing hide and seek, grandparents and and great-aunts and -uncles remembering yesteryear, cousins sharing photos, and distant relations catching up.
“So you met the King? Seriously?”
Allison nodded, and with alacrity launched into the story. She had told it half a dozen times already, but she still relished it.
“Alex’s family are always at the Cenotaph for Remembrance Sunday, so we were there, me and him and his mum and uncle - as well as Jack and Ianto who are family friends and sort of Secret Service people? And we were right at the front and everything. Oh and then we were joined by Luke Smith and his mother. Yes, the Luke Smith!”
Cousin Beth stared in amazement.
“Oh my god. Didn’t you use to have lots of pictures of him?”
“I can’t believe you remember that! Yes, I did - he was totally my hero when I was little. Alex mentioned once that he was a family friend, but I never knew how close. He’s so nice in real life! And his mother is just adorable. Very old and frail, but seriously charming and they kept going on about how she should be covered in medals. She did lots of ‘covert’ stuff in her youth apparently - maybe she was some sort of undercover agent, I don’t know. Anyway then - after the ceremony - the King came up to us and I thought I was going to faint...”
She didn’t get any further as Alex suddenly hushed everyone in the room, and turned the volume up on the TV. Confused, the gathered relations fell silent as the TV presenter spoke.
“A young doctor is being labelled ‘The Christmas Hero’, after giving his life to save that of a toddler. Our correspondent is in Cardiff...”
The news report that followed told the story a Dr Nathan Fen, a quiet young doctor, who on Christmas Eve threw himself in front of a small boy when a car lost control and swerved onto the pavement - saving the boy’s life, but sustaining fatal injuries and dying at the scene.
Although moving, Allison found the thing slightly distasteful - especially the way the media milked the story for all it was worth, talking to the grateful parents (the mother crying) who claimed that to them he would always be ‘The Christmas Hero’ and they would never forget him, showcasing endless footage of the little lad (who was of course too cute for words), as well as talking to Dr Fen’s neighbours and colleagues who all said that he was very quiet and unassuming and dedicated. On top of all this the poor man apparently did not have any family, but the Mayor of Cardiff had a small press conference to honour the valiant ‘Christmas Hero’, pledging to give him a proper send-off.
She could already imagine the TV drama writers getting ready to dramatise it for next year... Of course they’d recast the main character, as Dr Fen seemed to have been rather light and prematurely balding...
“Alex, are you OK?” she heard her mother asking, and he made a noncommittal noise.
“I... sorry to shush you all...” he looked around the room, oddly lost, “...but I knew him. I didn’t realise that-”
“Oh my god!” her mother exclaimed, immediately rushing to him and giving him a big hug. “What a shock for you. And what a brave man he was! Is there anything we can do? They said something about a charity in his name, didn’t they? Or maybe we could send some flowers for the funeral...”
Chatter broke out again, but Allison suddenly felt a chill go through her.
It was probably a coincidence... but she needed to be sure.
Extracting Alex from the five different cousins who were suddenly keen to give their condolences along with finding out as much information as they could, (“Sorry, but he’s not well! Alex, please come with me...”) she brought him upstairs and sat him down on her bed, taking a seat on the chair beside it, desperately hoping she was wrong.
“Listen... I don’t want to upset you further, but this Dr Fen... Was he one of the Torchwood people?”
Alex nodded, and she could feel her heart sink.
“Nathan. Yes.”
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she pressed her palms together.
“Alex, sorry, but - if this man died on Wednesday, how did he save a toddler on Friday?”
A tired smile.
“With enormous difficulty.”
“Alex please...”
For the longest moment he just studied her, before his eyes narrowed the tiniest fraction.
“If I said that Jack was a time traveller from the future, would you believe me?”
She sighed.
“Don’t. Just don’t.”
Bowing his head, he went very quiet, almost seeming to shrink before her eyes:
“Fine. Not doing that now. Not a good time. Point taken.”
Then he finally lifted his head again, that terribly sadness evident again.
“Allison, just... Let me try to explain why... Unlike Afsana and Sylvia, Nathan had no family. No friends outside Torchwood. He was so quiet even his nextdoor neighbours had barely spoken two words with him in five years. And he saved the world - more than once, probably. I couldn’t-” he swallowed. “I needed his death to matter, OK? Needed for people to care, needed for someone out in the real world to mourn him now that he’s gone... Too many heroes die unsung. I didn’t want him to be one of them. So we rigged it, Jack and I. I had no idea the story would get picked up by the media though... that must have been Ianto's doing.”
A soft smile, which she ignored completely.
“Alex! A child could have died!”
She was too appalled for words, but the softness in his eyes vanished as he shook his head, leaving only steel and determination.
“A child is alive! If not for us he would have been dead.”
“You can’t know that. I... understand that you’re in shock, that you wanted to honour your friend, but this?”
Face like a mask, he shook his head, and she knew the argument was lost. The look was unmistakable.
“I can know that. We saved that boy’s life. We just let Nathan take the credit.”
Then suddenly the mask seemed to crack, and he reached out, touched her face. There were tears in his eyes and she could feel the tremor in his hand.
“My Allie - never stop challenging me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Just this time, please believe me - we saved a life. There was so much death, but we saved a life. And that... was my Christmas.”
Maybe it was the hint of desperation in his voice, or the genuine pleading - the latter of which was something new. But (almost in spite of herself, except he so very clearly believed it himself) she leaned forward and kissed him gently.
“I believe you.”
TBC.
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I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapter.
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Considering that it's a dream, I made it rather not-symbolic (except in a few obvious ways)... Mostly because I rather like nonsense-dreams, and also because it's not really that sort of story and Allison isn't really one for symbolism on a big scale.
This whole thing was heartbreaking but wonderful at the same time.
♥ It's an odd chapter, in that pretty much the whole thing is just the consequences unfolding. That said, there's lots of important stuff, some of which you won't realise until later. :)
I am just...dear goodness do I want Alex to tell Allison soon.
It's hovering riiiiight on the edge. He almost did, and if she hadn't shot him down, he might have. But he decided to wait, partly because he figured that *he* really wasn't in the best emotional state to add more complications at that moment.
I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapter.
If I had the time, I'd be writing it RIGHT NOW! It'll be interesting to see how much I can cram into it, I've got it all planned out...
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Ohhh, Allison. I wish he could tell you!!
*HUGS*
Another perfect chapter, lovie!!
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<3 It's funny, because although it's very much a nonsense dream, a lot of it will become important. (I do wonder what people think will happen. I've had it all worked out for so long, I can imagine any other outcome than the one I'm writing. But what do you all expect... /rhetorical question)
Ohhh, Allison. I wish he could tell you!!
There are serious cracks in the armour now though. So you don't have long to wait.
*hugs back*
Thanks for all your sweet words, I need to find time to read you stuff.
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– So after chapter 18 her subconscious knows about Star Poets. Excellent.
The sky was orange, which gave her an odd sense of deja vu.
– And Gallifrey, or perhaps the Seeker’s planet. This just gets better and better. :/
(she was simultaneously in her bed at home as well as being on Mars she realised)
– Nicely observed.
talking in some strange, but beautiful, language that she couldn't understand.
– Terribly sad. Even in the dream where she clearly has access to some of Alex’s memories, she still can’t understand everything.
Jack had apparently been the only one not in danger. (He drifted off at this point.)
– I’ll bet he did. Not.
She had expected counselling or similar... That kind of shock and trauma - how the hell could Jack have let him leave without any kind of support?
– From a normal person’s point of view this is such a sensible question. Do we see any normal people start at Torchwood, aside from Gwen? It makes total sense that Jack isn’t going to see it on his own any longer.
“They’re shaking,” he said, and she felt the sting of tears. He sounded so helpless and unsure in the face of something perfectly normal under the circumstances.
Watching his hands intently he waited for them to stop
– I do love both of them.
“Remember. Everywhere, always, the stars burn and fall through the darkness, neither light nor darkness caring for the sweep of history, for the pain of lives lost or won. Whole civilisations, races, and planets, turning to ash and dust, for such is the weight and inevitability of time. And we must never alter the natural flow of cause and effect.”
As she drifted off to sleep again, she thought she heard him add “But that won’t stop me bending the rules,”
– The Ordinance of Rassilon? With the renegade’s coda?
but when she concentrated she could tell that he was breathing evenly
– Oh, lass…
a box that looked like it had come from Tiffany’s, except it was orange
– I see what you did there. :)
and he’d gotten dressed in some nice trousers and a proper shirt (without her having to nag, which showed how unsettled he was)
– !!!
A sigh. “The Doctor can walk through war zones and genocide without so much as a hair out of place.”
“That’s not a good thing. I actually find that... more disturbing.”
“Suppose. But it sure comes in useful.”
– And she’s not wrong. Pets Ten, carefully.
neighbour’s ginger tom cat had snuck in, finding Alex deep in conversation with it.
She had a feeling she should have expected this.
– Well, if she’d seen the series five episode “The Lodger”, absolutely.
Allie and Toby… brothers and sisters. What can I say. Wonderful scene.
And his mother is just adorable.
– Because what isn’t made better by a Sarah Jane Smith cameo? Particularly after the fact? “My Sarah Jane”, as Ten would say…
For the longest moment he just studied her, before his eyes narrowed the tiniest fraction.
“If I said that Jack was a time traveller from the future, would you believe me?”
She sighed.
“Don’t. Just don’t.”
Bowing his head, he went very quiet, almost seeming to shrink before her eyes:
“Fine. Not doing that now. Not a good time. Point taken.”
– So close. And we’ve already admitted to aliens nearby, and to Jack being special forces or something…
Then suddenly the mask seemed to crack, and he reached out, touched her face. There were tears in his eyes and she could feel the tremor in his hand.
“My Allie - never stop challenging me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Just this time, please believe me - we saved a life. There was so much death, but we saved a life. And that... was my Christmas.”
– This is going to hurt so much when it breaks, because it seems so nearly perfect in places. Aside from the lying, but you’re right – he nearly did start to tell her everything here.
And the Christmas Miracle you mention in the comment to chapter 13 (“And their next Christmas will bring one. (Christmas miracle. Except she doesn't believe it.)”) is “Nathan’s” saving of the young boy?
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Or maybe Jamie showed her a picture. Am unsure...
– And Gallifrey, or perhaps the Seeker’s planet. This just gets better and better. :/
Seeker's planet.
– Nicely observed.
Thank you. :)
– Terribly sad. Even in the dream where she clearly has access to some of Alex’s memories, she still can’t understand everything.
Imagery, and languages, are very different things... Although looking on it as if he speaks a different language is a nice metaphor.
– I’ll bet he did. Not.
I think he did. Deliberately, yes, but couldn't think of anything to explain it.
– From a normal person’s point of view this is such a sensible question. Do we see any normal people start at Torchwood, aside from Gwen? It makes total sense that Jack isn’t going to see it on his own any longer.
Well Jack tried, sort of, but the Seeker overruled him. And no, I don't know if there are any normal people. Afsana probably was [normal], although now I'm wondering how and why she ended up working there...
– I do love both of them.
♥
– The Ordinance of Rassilon? With the renegade’s coda?
Stuff that what I made up. With a coda.
– I see what you did there. :)
EVERYTHING IS ORANGE/GOLDEN.
– And she’s not wrong. Pets Ten, carefully.
M-hm. And another example of how the Seeker's rolemodels/parental figures are just so completely outside the normal.
– Well, if she’d seen the series five episode “The Lodger”, absolutely.
::nods a lot:: I love that little scene, btw, and the fact that Troy joins in.
Allie and Toby… brothers and sisters. What can I say. Wonderful scene.
So much of this story is just about growing up, and learning and understanding.
– Because what isn’t made better by a Sarah Jane Smith cameo? Particularly after the fact? “My Sarah Jane”, as Ten would say…
Everything is better with Sarah Jane.
– So close. And we’ve already admitted to aliens nearby, and to Jack being special forces or something…/– This is going to hurt so much when it breaks, because it seems so nearly perfect in places. Aside from the lying, but you’re right – he nearly did start to tell her everything here.
If she hadn't shut him down, he'd have told her everything there and then. He's hurting and deeply shaken and all his normal defences are at the weakest they'll ever be. What could have been...
And the Christmas Miracle you mention in the comment to chapter 13 (“And their next Christmas will bring one. (Christmas miracle. Except she doesn't believe it.)”) is “Nathan’s” saving of the young boy?
Yes. :)
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::nods a lot:: I love that little scene, btw, and the fact that Troy joins in.
Also, riffing off of A Town Called Mercy, when Alex agreed that the neighbour’s ginger tom (because, yes, everything is orange: everything) wasn’t religious, and the name would have to go for a start:
PREACHER: He's called Joshua. It's from the Bible. It means the Deliverer.
DOCTOR: No, he isn't. I speak horse. He's called Susan, and he wants you to respect his life choices.
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And oh, that scene! Yes. (I am slightly allergic to it now, as according to Tumblr, this throwaway line means that Toby Whithouse is transphobic. Your guess is as good as mine...)