The year of Hell, a torchwood fanfic

Title: The year of Hell

Author: Ceindreadh

Characters/Pairing: Ianto, Owen, Tosh, Gwen, Martha, Jack/Ianto implied

Rating: PG-15, T

Summary: How did team Torchwood fare during the year that 'never happened'. Spoilers for Utopia/Sound of Drums/Last of the TimeLords

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Torchwood characters, I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them in minty fresh condition when I'm finished.

Original characters are my own invention.

WARNINGS: Character death, Doctor Who crossover.

Apologies for any geographical errors.

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They were well on the way to Nepal when all hell broke loose.

A private plane had been chartered on their behalf, bringing them half way around the world. It wasn't until later, much later, that anybody remarked on how convenient it had all been. But they had all been so eager to follow up on any lead to Jack, no matter how slim. And somehow the message had seemed so plausible at the time, but when they tried to think back on it later; none of them had a clear recollection of exactly what the message had said. But then, it was a long time later when any of them had a chance to think about anything other than survival.

While they'd been travelling, a lot had been happening, but it wasn't until they landed to refuel in a distant part of Asia, that they'd found out about the Toclafane.

"Aliens? A fucking alien visitation, and we're stuck in the arse end of nowhere," Owen had fumed, kicking angrily at the dusty ground. "Bloody typical, we're sitting there by the Rift for years, and the first big thing that comes visiting and we're nowhere to be seen. Fine fucking advertisement for Torchwood we are!"

"Maybe we should go back," suggested Tosh absently, as she watched the events unfold on a tiny TV in the Airfield Manager's office. The picture was a bit fuzzy and the sound wasn't much better, but they were still able to make out the gist of what was supposed to be happening in just a few minutes.

"But Jack's somewhere out here," said Gwen, "We can't go back without him."

Ianto was silent, sipping on a lukewarm cola.

Even at that stage, none of them had an idea that their lives were going to change forever…that today would be a day as life altering for them as when they'd each joined Torchwood.

They'd watched as President of the United States had greeted the Toclafane – Owen making snarky comments about the size of the balls floating around – and then they'd watched as he was vaporized before their eyes.

"Shit!" swore Owen, "This is not good. We need to get back, now!"

But it was too late…too late for them…too late for so many of the population. Even as they grabbed their bags, Ianto heard a noise coming from the sky. At first they thought it was just a swarm of sorts, blotting out the sun. And then it came closer. And that's when the screaming started.

They ran…but nobody could outrun the Toclafane. Later, much later, the survivors realized that the shining balls of death had deliberately picked their targets. One in ten of every group had died. One in ten had been picked on and sacrificed to make a point. But at the time, all they knew was they had to run…run for their lives.

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Gwen was the first one of them to die. She hadn't been the leader of the group that ran from the airfield…she hadn't been a straggler…there had been no reason for the Toclafane to single her out…but they had.

When they'd finished with her, there hadn't even been enough left to bury.

Tosh had sobbed for most of the day. Owen had looked like he was going to be sick. Ianto…Ianto had kept them moving, even though they had no clear idea where they were going to go.

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They'd spent the next few months barely surviving. Hiding from the Toclafane, living from hand to mouth. Their initial plan, if you could call it that, had been to try and make their way back to Wales.

"We get back to the Hub, we can do something," Owen had insisted. "I mean, there's shit loads of stuff down there. Got to be something there strong enough to take down this Master piece of shit that he is."

But Wales was a long way away, and Tosh had suggested heading east to Japan. "I have friends there," she'd insisted. "They might be able to help."

Owen had argued that it would take them months to get there. Tosh had argued that they were closer to there than Cardiff. Ianto hadn't really cared one way or another.

Eventually for lack of a better plan, they'd followed Tosh.

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Months later, they had finally reached a port, where Tosh managed to find a fishing boat whose captain was part of the newly set up resistance. He'd agreed reluctantly to take them to one of the smaller Japanese islands, but told Tosh there was no guarantee that the Toclafane would let them journey in peace. "I have a permit to allow me to fish," he had told her, "Somebody needs to feed the slave labour on these infernal building sites. But if the Toclafane feel like it, they'll just blow me out of the water without a second thought."

They'd planned to sail with him the next morning, but a cough that had been nagging at Ianto for several days, turned into a fever and what Owen diagnosed as pneumonia.

Owen had insisted that Ianto couldn't travel, Ianto insisted they both go on without him, Tosh had insisted that Owen stay with Ianto. "I'll be less conspicuous on my own anyway," she had told them both. "Stay here, get Ianto better, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

Three weeks later, Japan burned.

Owen and Ianto stayed where they were for another month, hoping against hope that Tosh had made it out in time, but eventually, by the time Ianto was fit to travel and with still no word from Tosh, they had to admit defeat.

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Rumours had started within weeks of the Master's takeover. A woman called Martha who had faced the Master and survived…a woman who was walking the earth in search of a weapon to kill the Master…a woman who was the only person on the planet who could kill the Master.

Owen had scoffed at those rumours as he and Ianto made the seemingly endless journey back across Asia. It wasn't until the rumours started including one about her being the only person to get out of Japan that he'd started to take notice. "If she did it…maybe Tosh did and all," he'd told Ianto hopefully. "We gotta track this bird down."

Ianto hadn't exactly agreed with him, but his bout of pneumonia had left him too weak to argue. Plus he blamed himself, feeling that if he and Owen had been with Tosh, then she might have managed to escape. At worst they would have died together.

So they changed their route and started following the rumours, hoping against hope to track down this Martha Jones.

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It was in a shack in the mountains where they finally crossed paths and heard her story. Owen's face had grown darker with each mention of the Doctor and he had walked out of the meeting before she had finished. Ianto had stayed until the end and then followed Martha as she slipped out of a side door, her work done. He had almost caught up just as Owen emerged from the shadows and grabbed her by the arms.

Two seconds later, Owen was on the ground with Martha pointing a gun at him.

"Easy there, no need to get all huffy," said Owen.

"We just need to talk to you, Miss Jones," said Ianto, hands in the air as she pointed the gun at him. "We're on your side."

It had taken some convincing on all their parts before they were finally able to trust each other.

"You guys are Torchwood?" Martha had asked, her face lighting up. "Jack's team?"

"You've met Jack?" asked Owen, a little sceptically. "Prove it…what's the first thing he said when he met you?"

"You mean after he'd flirted with me?" said Martha, unfazed.

Ianto and Owen looked at each other. "She's met Jack," they said together.

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"So you're going all round the world," said Owen, a little later when they were seated around a campfire. "Telling people all about the Doctor guy and how they've all gotta think of him at the right time?"

Martha nodded. Owen snorted in disbelief. "Sounds a right load of bollocks to me."

"How was Jack when you last saw him," Ianto interrupted.

"He…he'd just come back after been killed by a laser beam," said Martha. "He gave me the teleport…told me to use it." She could feel the weight of it in her pocket and rubbed it like a talisman. "I'm sure he's still alive," she said, "I don't think there's anything that can kill him permanently, the Doctor said he'd never die."

"Yeah, this'd be the same Doctor that left him behind a hundred years ago?" Owen shook his head in disbelief. "We spend years trying to get a hint of his background and he goes and blabs it all to you five minutes after you meet. Typical bloody Harkness."

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They'd said their goodbyes to Martha the next day. Ianto had suggested they travel together, but Martha had turned them down. "We go in two different directions, that's twice as much ground covered." She'd smiled, "Besides, Martha Jones, walking the Earth alone sounds much better than 'Martha Jones walking the Earth with her two bodyguards'."

"That's 'dashing bodyguards'," muttered Owen as he'd shrugged on his backpack.

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The encounter with Martha seemed to have given them both a renewed sense of purpose. As Martha had requested, they'd continued to spread the word of her journey, telling her story to everybody they met…well, everybody that could understand the few languages they knew between them.

The months had passed, and Ianto was even starting to believe that they might actually make it home…and then they'd bumped into a flight of bloodthirsty Toclafane. They had hovered around Owen and Ianto, herding them this way and that, playing with them like a cat with a mouse. And then they had opened fire…all of them aiming at Owen…leaving Ianto without a scratch. He'd held Owen in his arms, the vicious laughter of the Toclafane echoing in his ears as they departed, leaving him with Owen's lifeblood soaking into his hands.

"Stu…stupid buggers," Owen had gasped, blood leaking from his mouth with every word. "It…it's just a flesh…just a flesh wound…"

Ianto's tears had mingled with the blood as he held Owen tightly.

"Yan…Ianto…" Owen's voice was wracked with pain, "You…you're the last…last of Torchwood…got…got to keep going…for me…Tosh…Gwen…for Jack…promised Mar…Martha…promise…"

"I promise," said Ianto. "I…" His voice cracked as he realized that Owen could no longer hear him.

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All Ianto wanted was to lay down and die, but he was a man of his word. He kept on with his journey, spreading the word as Martha had told him. With each step his body grew wearier. His cough started up again, and Ianto knew that this time he had no Owen to steal antibiotics and nurse him back to health…this time he had no Jack to kiss him better and restore his strength.

A year to the day after he had set off on his quest, Ianto knew that it was nearly at an end. Together with a pool of slave labourers, he watched as the countdown started…surrounded by people, but feeling more alone than he ever had in his life.

The chant of 'Doctor, Doctor', started as a whisper beside him, but grew to a shout. Ianto's voice was hoarse as he shouted with the rest. "Doctor, DOCTOR!" His chest grew tight and the coughing threatened to overwhelm him. "Doctor, Doctor," said his voice, but his heart was saying Jack. And then the skies split open again and there was a mighty wind and everything went blank.

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Ianto blinked as he sipped on his lukewarm cola. Something seemed wrong but he couldn't put a finger on it.

"You okay there, love?" asked Gwen.

"Yeah…something just walked over my grave," said Ianto, shivering slightly.

He focused on the television screen, watching in horror as the President of the United States was vaporized. And then…the picture seemed to wobble a bit and when it cleared, the team watched again as Saxon ran for his life only to be stopped by…

"What the fuck is Jack doing there?" said Owen.

The team looked at each other in confusion.

"Don't know, but I think we'd better get back to the Hub and find out," said Tosh.

"Yeah," said Owen. "Whose bright idea for a field trip was this anyway?"

"Yours!" chorused the rest of them as they shouldered their bags and headed back to the plane.

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The End