Title: Torchwood Hallowe'enChapter:
Janto Team!ficAuthor: a_silver_storyGenre
Erm ... hopefully it's scary. Minor gore. Disclaimer:
If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.Summary:
Ianto decides to do the decade-ly inventory of the Archives - with rather scary results (and I'm not talking about bad organisation skills). Slight crossover with Doctor Who S3.Note #1: This story was written the October before 'The Time of Angels' and 'Flesh and Stone' aired, so please don't message me regarding any inconsistencies with canon you may find.Note #2: I've deleted the original version of this from LJ, and am posting this corrected version one chapter at a time, one day at a time.
Ianto practically shouted it down the comms. Jack jumped and blinked again, while Owen cursed under his breath. The Angel that had been lying in fragments took the time Jack had his eyes closed to pull itself back together, and in those two blinks was whole and towering yet again. It had happened so fast, Ianto had jumped along with them from behind his screen. Toshiko hurried over.
"Blow them up, blink, and they've pulled themselves back together again." Ianto told her.
He could see Jack and Owen back away from the statue – it had also found the time to get closer, too – and Jack was trying his hardest not to blink. Toshiko and Ianto held their breath, tensing when the Angel jumped forward toward Jack and Owen. The two of them tumbled backwards in shock, missing her stone fingers by inches as she appeared in front of them. They froze, staring up at her as if unable to believe their eyes.
"What the fuck happened?" Owen practically shouted.
"I blinked – That must have been enough time for it to pull itself together."
"Great. Just don't blink agai – Jack!"
"My eyes are killing me, Owen!"
"The Weeping Angel is trying to kill you too, in case you hadn't noticed," he retorted.
"What's the one in the room doing?" Jack asked, not taking his eyes from the newly-reformed Angel in front of them.
"Hasn't moved. I think if it does, it might see itself in the mirror. Unless it moves without uncovering it's eyes."
"Don't give it ideas," Jack told him, almost exasperated. "Look ... We'll back away slowly, shut the door and seal it. Regroup, think of a new plan."
"Okay, I'll guide you since it doesn't make any difference whether or not I can see the bloody thing ..."
Jack kept the gun cocked and aimed, more for comfort than any real form of use, and allowed Owen to guide him backwards, eyes watering.
The Angel simply stared back at them, her hands palms up in front of her, the bland expression on her smooth, stone face giving both Jack and Owen the shivers.
"I really, really need to blink ..." Jack whispered, his eyes burning as salty water stung into them.
"Nearly there ..." muttered Owen.
"Really, Owen ..."
"Two metres to the door, if that ..."
Jack tumbled backwards in shock, taking Owen down with him. They hit the floor with a thud. They stared up, frozen at the Angel now towering above them, Jack's heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts and his eyes streaming.
The Angel was changed. Gone was her calm exterior, replaced by a wide, snarling mouth filled with two rows of jagged, pointed teeth and a tongue that twisted and flicked like a demon's. Her short nails had become claws, sharp and curling at the end of long, tapered fingers, tensed and reaching for Jack and Owen. Her temples were surrounded by deep-set wrinkles, her hair wild.
Her eyes were still blank, though. Blank and staring, as if looking straight through them but seeing them all at once. There was no way to escape that gaze, and Jack could feel it in his bones: these Angels were psychopaths. No regret; no remorse. They would take what they could – and what they could take right now was Jack. Jack, with his eternal life ahead of him, more potential energy than anything in the universe. He briefly wondered how long they would be able to live off him for, how far back they might send him, how long he'd have to wait to see Ianto again ... Ianto and Gwen and Owen and Tosh …
Owen was already on his feet, urging Jack to follow him backwards. They just had to get behind the door that led to the cells and lock it behind them, and be thankful that Ianto kept the Archive codes for the more dangerous stuff they'd found in his pretty little head.
"Jack? Owen?" Ianto was asking over the comms. "Why aren't you moving?"
"Have you seen this bastard thing?" Owen grumbled. "Jack's in a bit of shock."
"Am not," Jack muttered, still holding his gun aimed at the Angel.
Owen wrenched the door open, then slammed it shut again.
"Er ... there's another one outside ..."
They could hear Ianto moving over the comms. "I saw it, Owen." he was saying. "I'll come down and look at it while you two get out."
"At least we now know where three of them are." Jack tried to look for the positives.
"I told you: the other one is searching through the floor below. The other two must be standing guard. Well ... either that or ... y'know ..."
"Know what?" Jack whispered. "Gawd I need to shut my eyes so bad ..."
"Well ... if you look at their formation: bait, watchman – or woman – another to sneak up from behind. They could be hunting."
They could hear Ianto's running footsteps now.
"I have to blink!" groaned Jack. "Hurry up, Ianto!"
"Spidery-mouse-thing!" exclaimed Owen suddenly, stooping to pick it up as it crawled out of the wall. Jack fought the urge to squeal. "I'll stick it on its arm ... there. You can blink and rub your eyes. Spider part of the spidery-mouse-thing doesn't have eyelids."
Jack did so with gratitude, tears streaming down his face. It never felt so good to close his eyes in all in his life.
"JACK!" Owen bellowed. Jack looked up.
The Angel had only moved her arms – one reaching over as if pointing at the other.
"I thought you said the spidery-mouse couldn't blink!" he snapped, realising the Angel must have had a window of opportunity and zapped the spidery-mouse-thing backwards.
"Maybe it was a blind spidery-mouse-thing!" Owen snapped back. "Ianto! Where are you?"
"Just turned the corner now. God, those things are -"
"Wait 'til they snarl at you," Jack interrupted, "Then decide whether or not they're scary. Are you staring it at it?"
Owen opened the door again, and slipped out, guiding Jack after him and avoiding the Angel stood there. He frowned at it. Her face was the blank, serene expression they were used to. However, she was pointing directly at Ianto. Ianto seemed to have realised this, too, and was keeping his distance.
"You okay?" he asked, still not taking his eyes off the statue. It felt like she was staring back at him, and he laboured to keep his breathing calm and even as she silently challenged him to look away.
"We're fine," Jack replied. "Right, Owen: guide us. Ianto and I will take it in turns to keep our eyes on the Angel – What's that?"
The light flickered.
"It can control the electrics …” realised Owen.
"Jack! Keep your eyes on the Angel!" called Ianto, and he looked away to reach into his pocket. He pulled out his little torch with an air of triumph and flicked it on, keeping the beam centred on the Angel's face.
Jack and Ianto practically ran backwards as Owen guided them, each of them painfully aware that as soon as they turned the corner the Angel would be able to move again. 'Would it come straight after them or help its two other friends?' Ianto wondered. Did they even have friends? They couldn't even look at each other.
They rounded the corner, where the lights still worked, and Ianto flicked off his torch to conserve it.
"Can we just run flat out?" Owen suggested as Jack and Ianto warily kept their eyes on the end of the tunnel.
"It moves so fast, blink and it's got us, Owen," Jack reminded him.
"There she is," breathed Ianto, the Angel poking her head around the corner they'd just rounded as if playing a child's game of hide and seek. "How far, Owen?"
"About ten metres."
"I need to blink, Jack."
"Go ahead," Jack told him.
He rubbed his aching eyes, and turned to see how far they had to go. He groaned. "Owen! I thought you said ten metres!"
"My estimations are a little off – so what?"
"How far is it? I need to blink, Ianto."
"Go ahead. About fifteen metres, give or take."
"As long as we let each other know when we're blinking, we should be fine."
"Yeah," the other two agreed.
They made it to the other door without allowing the Angel to move, and slipped behind it, spinning the wheel on the back and sealing off the Archive section. They practically hugged each other in relief, and all but ran up to the main area.
"That door won't hold them for long, but hopefully they'll get a little lost before they can work their way up here," Ianto called as he made his way back to Gwen's workstation, checking the CCTV. Owen, Jack and Toshiko came to stand behind him.
"Are you three all right?" she asked.
"Fine. How's the strategy coming?" asked Jack.
"I've got a few ideas, but there's so many variables – and I was thrown for a loop when we found that Owen-"
"Keep at it," Jack cut her off. "Remember: we've got every faith in you, Toshiko. Now, what are the Angels doing?"
"The one lower down has moved on to another room, but still appears to be searching," Ianto told him, indicating a CCTV feed full of boxes of papers being moved around and tossed aside. "The other is finishing the room we left her in. Her friend has smashed the mirror and left it face down, so there's no danger of her seeing herself."
"And the two that were hunting us?"
"No idea. Can't see them through the cameras."
"So they're invisible?" asked Owen.
"... or they move so fast the cameras can't pick them up!" realised Ianto. He hit a button, and everything paused.
The Angels searching the papers appeared, mid-throw and snarling. The other two were running, heading up some metal stairs at the opposite end of the tunnel from the door they'd sealed the first one behind. The other had obviously gone back to let her accomplice out.
"Where are those stairs?" asked Jack.
"Opposite end of the tunnel from the room with the Angel and the mirror in. Go up them and wind up in Harmless Miscellaneous, go down you find yourself in Military Records, Wardrobe –" He and Jack shared a glance, "– Broken or Incomplete Artefacts, Alien Catalogue ..."
"Anything dangerous? Anything they could use as a weapon of mass destruction?"
"Not that I can think of, but some of the past Archivers were so bad ..."
"Mmm," agreed Jack. "Can we figure out what they're looking for? What's kept in the rooms they're in?"
"Paperwork, mostly. The one lower down is searching through about a hundred and fifty years worth of Militia records. Mostly orders and invoices for guns and ammunition, requests for extra soldiers to accompany Torchwood on missions and stuff."
"The one we came across?"
"That would be where we keep the inventories of everything in the Archives."
"So ... all they need to do is find one of the inventories, find what they're looking for on the list and then run down and tell the others the catalogue number?"
"If they can read," Ianto pointed out, pressing play on the CCTV, letting it run for a couple of seconds then pausing it again.
They all jumped back in surprise and shock.
The screen was filled with the snarling face of the Angel, and they all shivered as her eyes bored into them from the screen.
"Watching the watchers." Ianto muttered to himself.
Jack put a hand on his shoulder, more for his own comfort than Ianto's.Previous Part | Next Part