Alright people! This is the first chapter of Starling. I know it's short, but in the future (if there is one) I hope to make the chapters longer. This is just to draw you in a bit. This is my first fanfic ever posted, but not the first ever written. Hopefully, people love it and will want more! I will not continue without reviews; so if you like it MAKE YOUR OPINION KNOWN! Or if you think it's crap and I need some mental attention TELL ME THAT TOO! I love hearing whatever you have to say, dears! :D

Now for some disclaimers: I, unfortunately, do not own the show Torchwood. OR the idea of Torchwood. If I did, there would not be any of this Ianto dies nonsense. The only thing I can say is mine is the little girl. SHE'S MINE!

Enjoy!

Chapter one

As far as Jack could tell, the creature that had stumbled into the tourist office was somewhat human. Were it not for her shocking white hair and eyes the color of freshly spilled blood. The creature looked like a porcelain doll in the shape of a child. She had skin as white as snow, and seemingly as delicate as thin glass. Her hair was strait but mussed, and her eyes were innocently wide. Her small frame was just as delicate as her skin. Her clothes were rugged and worn by travel.

The female was covered in bruises, and shivering so hard she was nearly convulsing. Her disturbing eyes frantically flicked around her and her rouge lips never stopped moving; mouthing words but never speaking them.

Since stumbling into the Tourist office, she had not responded to Ianto at all, or moved from her curled position behind the counter. She just curled her legs close to her body in a fetal position and rocked.

Gwen had come up not long after Ianto had come down to tell Jack of the intruder. She now stood with her arms crossed, glaring at Jack.

"Can I at least go talk to her?" Gwen demanded, "She's obviously in shock, Jack. She practically hysterical!" She waved in the child's direction.

"I don't know if it's faking or not." Jack replied sternly, "It may be armed and dangerous. It knew where to find-"

"Oh bullshit!" Gwen cut Jack off, brown eyes glinting, "She obviouslycame in here on accident! What else would you do if your panicked? God, Jack! Give her a chance!"

Jack looked to the creature, who's eyes were wildly flickering around, and silent mumbles gaining some sound.

"Fine. Just don't get too close." He relented, voice reluctant. Gwen nodded and gave him a grateful gap-toothed smile.

She looked back to the child, and made a slow approach. The movement drew the girl's spastic eyes to the taller woman. The blood red eyes locked on her form, and she froze.

Gwen came a little closer and said gently, "Hello, my name is Gwen."

The girl made no response.

"Can you understand me?" Gwen asked, slower and more clearly.

The girl's head moved ever so slightly in a nod. She didn't blink.

"Do you know where you are?" Gwen asked.

The girl's frame convulsed in a shiver and she shook her head manically.

"Your in Cardiff, Whales. Do you know where that is?" Jack spoke up, his tone a little gruff, but gentler. The girl shook her head again.

"Your in the United Kingdom." Gwen explained, "We're close to England." The girls eyes, who Jack had been under the impression could not go any wider; went the size of saucers.

"What?" Came the reply. The voice was high strung sounding, and had a permanently rough edge to it. The accent was unmistakably an old time New Yorker's drawl. Very old time. Before the Empire State Building even. Jack remembered how that accent sounded. He had even had it himself for a few years.

"How did I get here?" The girl asked frantically, eyes desperate.

"We think you fell through a Rift in space and time, and ended up here; in Cardiff." Jack answered, meeting the girl's eyes.

"What year is it?" She asked, quietly now.

"It's 2010, sweetheart." Gwen said gently, remembering the last time people were displaced from their times. The girl's breath shuddered to a halt, and if it was possible, her eyes went even wider.

Her breath left her in a hysterical giggle, then another. Soon she was laughing manically, pale red tears falling down her bruised and dirt smeared cheeks onto her equally dirty clothes. Her small hands reached up and latched onto her hair, pulling hard. Giggles turned to wailing banshee screams. Sobs tore from her already harsh throat.

Gwen made to grab her hands and recoiled when an unnerving cold met her fingers instead of warmth. The girl's skin felt like the skin of the dead.

In her hesitation, Jack had swooped in and picked up the child; and was now running with her into the Hub.

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Inkstained Narrations