Lost in the Hum of Night

ann no aku

Plot: Luke Smith is selected as a candidate for an elite school. All seems well until he doesn't return home one day. Sarah Jane, frantic with the loss of her son, calls on her last hope for help—Torchwood. Crossover with all series in the Doctor Who universe.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, The Sarah Jane Adventures, or Torchwood. All belong to the BBC.

Notes: Takes place after the SJA episode The Lost Boy (Season I), before the Season 1 finale of Torchwood, and between the Doctor Who episodes Family of Blood and Blink (Series III).

*****

Chapter Two: Butterflies

Luke woke early Saturday morning with a feeling in his stomach he had never felt before. He lifted up his t-shirt, half expecting some fluttering creature to poke out of his abdomen. He realized, with slight shock, that he was nervous. Did he want to attend Chelsea hall? What about Maria and Clyde? He'd be all alone, not knowing anyone at the school. At least, he thought with an inkling of hope, that I live close enough so I wouldn't have to live there. I think. He swallowed, the funny sensation in his tummy returning.

"Are you up, Luke?" his mother called from the other side of his door.

"Yes," he tried to reply, but all that came out was a sickly grunt. It was only an interview, so why was he so scared?

"May I come in?" she asked, taking his sharp intake of breath as another yes. "Oh, Luke! Are you alright?"

He nodded, making sure his mouth was closed so he wouldn't vomit.

"You're . .green! You could put a Slitheen to shame!" His mother advanced towards him, immediately placing a hand on his clammy forehead.

"My stomach feels weird, like there's something flying around inside," he admitted with some reluctance.

"Butterflies," she said grinning. "You're nervous. You shouldn't be, Luke. There's no way they won't accept you! Now hurry up and get ready. I've got breakfast on the table." She smoothed her son's damp hair. "I'm so proud of you, Luke."

He watched as she left, his knees buckling and sending him into his desk chair. That's what he feared—being accepted. Truth was, he wasn't sure if he wanted it. Yes, school was a bit of a bore and that Chelsea Hall was the offer of a lifetime, but what if Clyde was right? Or, would he make new friends? He had just started to feel normal, and now some posh school (as Mr. Jackson had said) singled him out, putting him back in the spotlight where he didn't want to be. If Luke were anyone else, he'd probably say that he had Harry Potter's luck.

*****

The drive to Chelsea Hall was a short forty-five minutes, not nearly long enough to allow Luke the courage to swallow his tongue on 'accident'. He hadn't been scared facing the Slitheen, nor being on a spaceship miles above Earth (Luke supposed that was because he was a bit alien himself), but he had been scared without Sarah Jane, without his mum. And he was scared now at the prospect of being alone at a school—without Clyde and Maria. Maria had been the first friend he had ever made.

Despite his fears, Luke couldn't bring himself to tell his mum. She was so proud of him, and he didn't want to let her down. No one had asked what he wanted; they had just assumed he'd want to attend Chelsea Hall because he was smart. And yet, he did; he couldn't deny that. He wanted to be challenged and learn more. The real question was, which did he want more?

With slight trepidation, Luke exited the car and started at the ornately designed brick building. It wasn't very large, but since so few students attended at any given time, it needn't have been. No more than one hundred could be enrolled per year, and each was hand picked form all over the world. Nearly one-third of the students represented Asia (particularly China, Korea, and Japan), whereas the rest mostly from Europe and North America.

Together, they walked to the reception where a red-haired woman sat behind the desk rifling through stacks of confidential folders, oblivious to her guests. Ms. Smith cleared her throat, causing the woman to start.

"Good morning," the woman greeted, smiling. "Welcome to Chelsea Hall. Are you here for an interview?"

"Yes. I'm Sarah Jane Smith, and this is my son Luke. We have an appointment with Dr. Bryson at ten."

"Right, Dr. Bryson," the receptionist repeated, haphazardly shoving all the folders to the floor. She perused the computer, tapping away quickly. "He's in a meeting right now. One of the students didn't score a perfect on her last test and may be put on probation," she explained uselessly. "Please, sit. He'll be with you in a moment." She gestured to the luxurious couch opposite her desk and ducked back to the pile of files.

"Some secretary," Ms. Smith mumbled. "I'd have expected more from Chelsea Hall."

They only had to wait ten minutes before an oddly handsome man entered the reception area, sporting a very fine tailored suit of a deep blue. Luke couldn't decide if the man was good-looking or disturbing, he gave off both feelings.

"Good morning, Ms. Smith," he greeted, his voice as rich and smooth as his attire. "I'm Dr. Bryson. It is a pleasure to meet you." He shook her hand; his skin was softer than anything she had ever felt. Dr. Bryson's pale green eyes found Luke, whom was obsessively straightening his tie, and broke into a large grin that revealed such perfect white teeth that they could only ogle at him. "Ah, and Luke, your prodigal son. What an honor it is," and he bowed deeply to him. Luke half-bowed in return, unsure what to do next. "Come, let us discuss in my office." Dr. Bryson gestured to let them pass, and then turned to the secretary. "Ms. Noble, some tea, please."

The three of them sat around a coffee table that the secretary soon laded with a silver tray of tea and scones. Luke sat next to his mother on a couch across from Dr. Bryson's matching armchair. Almost immediately, he broke into business, yet never once sounding pompous.

"I'm very surprised we haven't heard of you earlier, Luke. With marks like yours, you are exactly what Chelsea Hall needs. There is no point in a long and drawn out interview, Ms. Smith, when we both know that Luke is an ideal prospect, and I don't say that very often." He beamed again, momentarily dazzling his guests.

"Well, it's up to Luke," Ms. Smith managed to say after a second's hesitation. She looked to her son, silently urging him to speak.

"I-I don't want," he began, swallowing thickly at the flicker in Dr. Bryson's eyes. "I-I mean, I want to live at home."

Much to Luke's relief, the headmaster chuckled, the deep sound reverberating off the walls and high ceiling. "Of course not, Luke, not if you'd prefer to live at home." He sipped his tea daintily, his eerily pale eyes never leaving the boy's face. "Chelsea Hall is elite and selective, yes, but not unsympathetic to the needs of our youth. We pride ourselves on having the best, Luke, and will do almost anything to keep the best. Do you have any other concerns?"

He couldn't believe it—he could commute to Chelsea Hall? He wouldn't have to quit being friends with Maria and Clyde after all. "No."

"Fantastic," the headmaster again focused on Ms. Smith. "Now, let us discuss your payment methods."