A/N: I'm going through and editing the four chapter's I've uploaded, but the changes are minor. I will then be uploading all the chapters I've been keeping back.
Chapter One
****August 9th 2007****
The streets of Cardiff were silent, except for the sound of the pouring rain. I was leaning up against a building, hiding my face behind the brim of my hat. I was watching the only people that would possible be out on a night like this - the police. They had blocked off the whole road with blinking lights and yellow tape. People with bright yellow rain coats and big black hats were walking around and a small crowd with umbrellas was gathered up against the tape having stopped on their commute home to see what was happening (they would move on shortly, when the wind proved too much for their umbrellas to keep them dry).
They were so foolish. It was just another stupid murder in another city. I never understood the morbid curiosity people had with dead bodies – I always found it so insensitive how they would stare and whisper to each other while doing nothing to help the police or the grieving friends or family (especially if they had been on the scene at the time of the murder).
It was really pouring it down now, but I was relatively safe under the overhang of a restaurant.
I wouldn't normally have stayed and watched, but the job I had gotten wasn't enough to rent a flat in Cardiff (and pay the associated bills that come with owning a house/flat). At only seventeen years old, and without any A-levels no one would hire me full time, so I was working in a café for a couple of hours a day while also using my laptop (which had been gifted to me by one of the few kind foster families I had) to get the degrees I needed to get an actual job. In the meantime, I would find an abandoned building to sleep in (most likely down by the docks where there were several places to hid). For now, staying outside this restaurant and watching the people was keeping me relatively warm until I had to retire for the night to prevent people being suspicious.
Suddenly the police started retreating from under the tape and a huge black van pulled in. It had silver letters on the side, TORCHWOOD. Well, this was different. Four people dressed in dark cloths without hoods to shield them from the rain jumped out. There was two men and two women, one of the women was carrying a briefcase. None of them were wearing suits but they managed to look professional and intimidating in what was mostly 'normal' cloths. One of the men was wearing a trench coat that looked like it had stepped out of World War Two – it looked like it had once been a Captain's coat but through the rain I couldn't see if there were any badges to identify his rank.
The man must have noticed me looking at him because he turned to stare at me and I lowered my head slightly so that my hat was hiding my face preventing him from getting an identification. I didn't particularly want to be noticed by the copes encase they realised that I was a homeless teen.
I could still feel Mr. Trent Coat staring at me through the rain. Like he was trying to assess whether I was a threat or not. Straightening up, I locked eyes with him, trying to make myself look relaxed, like I didn't care that I knew he was watching me. After a few seconds he broke the gaze and turned to his team. He was very handsome, I noted absently. A strong jaw, and muscled body. I couldn't see from where I was stood, but his eyes were light – most probably blue.
I tilted my head curiously. What were they doing over there, just the four of them around a dead body in the pouring rain? And why were all the police standing on the outskirts with the crowd of civilians? It was much too tempting to resist.
Silently, I left my post and moved across to the parking garage which would overlook the murder scene. It seemed I wasn't the only person who had the same idea to look down upon the crime scene from above, as a woman in police uniform was already there.
"What are you doing here?" She demanded to know as I stepped up next to her to look over the railing.
"Curiosity." I answered simply. "Now be quiet, unless you want them to hear you." I ordered her. I wasn't willing to deal with the senseless questions of other people when it was obvious that we both shouldn't be somewhere, and yet we both were there. The fact that the women was in uniform did not change my attitude towards her, especially since it seemed the people below us had a higher clearance and more power.
The four people were forming an odd little circle around the dead man. The woman with the briefcase was pulling something out of it. At first, I thought it was a hand, but it was silver. Some kind of glove? Or maybe, the word would be gauntlet? The cop lady was leaning over the railing beside me, it seemed she had lost interest in getting me to leave and decided to continue spying on the group down below. I didn't lean out so my head was clearly visible from below, instead I stood at such an angle that the concrete would hide me unless Mr Trench Coat stepped back a step and looked up.
"How's it going?" Mr. Trench Coat asked. I smiled slightly; he was American. I don't know why but I had always loved the American accent, that and the welsh one. The woman was putting the glove on, kneeling on the pavement above the dead man's head.
"Nothing yet, I've gotta' feel it" the women replied, her accent was a mixture of London and something else I couldn't identify because it was faded but I would take a guess at something near Russia. "I can't just flip a switch, it's more like access. It grants me access." She gasped suddenly and put the gloved hand under the dead man's head.
The pouring rain suddenly stopped, just stopped. But only in a very small area around the dead man's body. Rain wasn't supposed to do that. To make the situation even weirder, the dead man's eyes flew open.
"What the hell is going on?" The dead – or rather should be dead – man demanded in angered confusion.
"Listen to me," said the other women, the beautiful Asian girl. "We're only got two minutes, so it's important that you listen. You're dead."
"How am I dead?" The dead man asked in a confused and panicked voice.
"You were stabbed," the other man said, another Londoner.
"I'm not dead, I can see you!"
"We brought you back, but we haven't got long." The Asian girl (apparently the elected spokesperson since the other women was working the glove, the Londoner was monitoring some equipment and Mr. Trent Coat was overlooking everything) said apologetically. "Who did this to you?"
"But why am I dead? I don't want to be dead!"
"Who killed you, did you see them?" She persisted.
"I don't know, they were standing behind me." The man finally answered.
"So, you didn't see anything?" The Asian women asked disappointedly. They looked up to Mr. Trench Coat – he seemed to be the boss of these people – for instruction. He knelt beside the man.
"What's your name?" he asked kindly. I raised an eyebrow. You would think that was the first thing they would have asked.
"John." He answered. "John Tucker."
"Okay John. Not long now." Mr Trench Coat continued gentle.
"Who are you?"
"Captain Jack Harkness." So I was right. The trench coat did symbolise captaincy. But from up here, without the rain, I could see that the coat didn't have the tags. Showing that he had either been defrocked or he was off duty. "Tell me, what was it like when you died? What did you see?"
"Nothing. I saw nothing. Oh my god, there's nothing!" Then John went limp.
The rain started pouring again and I could no longer hear their voices clearly over the sound. Whatever the hell that glove was, it seemed to have an impact on the natural weather systems.
"Maybe there's no right way of doing it!" the Captain shouted in response to something the others had said, stepping back from the huddle. "What do you two think?!" he looked up, directly at us.
The cop lady gasped and pulled back immediately, while I hesitated just a moment – locking eyes with the Captain – before I also stepped back. He had obviously known they were there all this time, so why would he want them to know what they were doing? They must have cleared the police out for a reason. Why would he let them be the exception to the secrecy?
Together, cop lady and I ran out of the garage and away from the building. Not stopping until we were several blocks away and the Police Lady was out of breath from having run so far and receiving a shock to her beliefs.
"I have never seen the likes." I finally said in disbelief once we had gotten far enough away for my liking.
"I know." The women said with a heavy welsh accent, something which hadn't been as prominent when they were in the car park. She was silent a moment, like she was pulling herself together. "Where are your parents then? It's almost midnight." She asked, fulling back on her police training now that she had gotten control of herself.
"Live on my own." I answered off-hand.
"Then where do you live, I can give you a lift?" She asked suspiciously, obviously not trusting that I wasn't a street teen.
"As if I'm going to tell you that. Cop or not, you're a complete stranger." I responded with a shake of my head before turning and walking away, disappearing into the dark streets before the cop lady could follow. I never really understood the unwavering trust some people had in the police. Just because they were in a uniform didn't mean they couldn't hurt you (intentionally or otherwise). Even the non-malicious once still had to abide by rules and regulations and that could hurt people.
****August 10th 2007****
I spent the night in one of the abandoned warehouses by the docks. I didn't sleep much, instead I spent the time reading the book I had taken out of the library under torch light. As the sun started to rise, I headed to work. As was normal I was the first one there to open the café and start the slow process of the breakfast run. My boss didn't arrive until seven, which meant I had two hours of being the only one in the café.
Monday was the only day where I worked more than three hours so I didn't leave the café till ten o'clock in the morning. It was a normal day in Cardiff, the rain from the night before hadn't faded. My hat was securely placed on my head again in an attempt to keep my vision clear.
I was heading to the library to return my book when my day suddenly turned.
The street was empty, very little foot traffic anywhere since the normal day-time shoppers had decided not to brave the torrential rain. From one off the side allies a man came out. He was about six feet tall, hunched shoulders and running at quite the pace. But as he was getting closer, I noticed that his face was wrinkled, his jaw line jutted out and his teeth sharp. He was more than just a man; he was more like a monster.
I had seen a couple like him before, they were fast and deadly, using their teeth to rip their victims throats apart when someone strayed into their territory or harmed one of their own. Normally I stayed out of their way, but the few times I had no choice but to sleep in a back ally I had sometimes been forced to defend myself from them.
A couple of paces behind the monster was Mr. Trench Coat – Jack Harkness – he had a stun gun in one hand and some sort of spray in the other.
"Get out of the way!" The Captain shouted at me.
But it was too late, the monster had caught sight of me and was heading directly towards me. There were no side alleys close enough for me to turn down and turning and heading the other way would do me no good. Without food in my system, I didn't have the energy to run for long at the speed which would get me too safety. Making a snap decision I rushed towards the monster, ducking low to avoid its sharp teeth, I used my shoulder and its own momentum to throw the monster to the floor. With the few seconds I had brought, I flipped the monster and pinned its arms behind its back.
"That was impressive." The Captain commented, kneeling next to me and pressing down on the monster's neck to help contain it.
"What the hell is he?" I asked, relinquishing the monster's hands to the Captain who handcuffed him.
"A weevil." He responded, spraying the monster in the face to calm it, before putting a bag over its head. "You can let him up now, I've got him."
"Who are you people?" I asked, climbing to my feet next to the Captain who pulled the Weevil up.
"Torchwood," he responded, walking back the way he came.
"And Torchwood is?" I asked leadingly, following him. I wasn't going to just let him walk away.
"Way above a school girl." He responded.
"I'm not in school and I'm not a girl." I told him, snappily. I always hated being treated like a little kid, because I wasn't and hadn't been for a long time. "Are you something to do with the aliens?" The Captain shot me a confused look. "I was in London during the Battle of Canary Warf." I explained.
"Yes, we deal with aliens." The Captain answered after a long moment, as we approached a black SUV. He opened the back of the van and pushed the Weevil in before closing the door. "You coming?" he asked, opening the passenger door for me.
I hesitated a moment. I didn't have any idea who this man was, what he did or if he was safe. I didn't normally trust anyone, but this man felt different. Comfortable and safe. With a sigh, I climbed into the car and the Captain smiled proudly before closing the door. The car ride was spent in silence. We didn't go far, only to the Millennium Centre.
He parked the car outside the tourist office and climbed out. I followed suit. The Captain grabbed the Weevil from the back and led it into the tourist office. A man dressed in a suit was sat behind the counter, reading a book.
"Sir." He greeted, with a nod of his head. Not even bothered by the Weevil who was starting to fight back. The spray from earlier obviously having warn off.
"Ianto. I've left the car out front." The Captain greeted.
"I'll bring it round back," the man – Ianto – responded, pressing something under the desk. A piece of the wall moved out of the way like a door to reveal a stone lined corridor.
"A secret base?" I asked with a smile as I followed him into the corridor. "Underneath one of Cardiff's most well-known land marks?" The Captain just smirked at me in answer.
The corridor lead to a lift. Stepping into the lift, I stayed facing the back of it since The Captain didn't try and turn around. It took about a minute for the lift to reach the bottom, meaning they were probably eleven stories or so below the bay. When the door opened it revealed a circular entrance with a cogged door partially visible. Stepping through the cogged door, it led to a very open underground base. The majority of it was brick and looked to have been built in the Victorian era, but there was a platform of high-tech equipment in the middle that looked almost futuristic and there were various odds and ends doted around such as a hand in a jar.
The Asian women from the night before was working at a computer desk, tapping quickly on one of the keyboards; the Londoner was working down in a lower section with a blow torch. The male was nowhere in sight.
The Captain walked through the area, passed the Water Tower that was running down the middle of the base. Unsure what was happening I followed. Just as I was passing over a gridded part of the floor, which passed over the bases overflow, heading towards a stone staircase, a screech sounded overhead.
"Was that a dinosaur?" I asked excitedly, looking up to the roof since I hadn't recognised the sound as belonging to a normal bird of prey and it had been far too loud to belong to any basic bird species.
"Pterodactyl." The Captain responded calmly; as though pterodactyls were perfectly normal in this day and age. "You coming?"
"Yeah. What's its name?" I asked following behind him while trying to spot the Pterodactyl.
"She's called Myfanwy." The Captain responded, leading me down into what appeared to be the cells.
"Beloved." I translated.
"You speak Welsh?" he asked shocked. His reaction didn't surprise me because of all the languages I had learnt welsh was probably the hardest since I hadn't grown up around people speaking the tongue. The Captain pressed a button on the wall that opened one of the previously empty cells.
"Yeah, I learnt how to speak many different languages. It's a hobby." I told him.
"How many languages do you know?" he asked curiously, locking the Weevil into the cell.
"A few." I shrugged carelessly. I knew so many languages that when I wrote my CV, I only listed five of the most common or useful and Welsh to show how serious I was about my studies. When the captain looked me up, he would discover I could speak Welsh, German, Spanish, Portuguese, Arabic and Russian.
"That all I'm going to get?" he asked, turning round and leaning against the cell door.
"Yes, that's all you're going to get. Is there a particular reason why you brought me here?" I asked.
The Captain just smiled and started walking back to the main part of the hub. With an annoyed sigh, I followed.
"So, what's your name?" The Captain asked me.
"Raven." I told him, amused that he had only thought to ask that now.
"Well then Raven, meet the rest of Torchwood." He motioned to the Asian lady. "Toshiko Sato, our computer expert." He pointed to the other women who had taken off her helmet and joined them. "Suzie Costello, second in command. Owen Harper."
"Doctor Owen Harper." The man corrected, spinning around on his chair and informing of his place on the team.
"And Ianto Jones." He motioned to the suited man from before who had just joined the group.
"Sorry to interrupt." He spoke holding out a file. "But there's been another sighting of a Weevil."
"Where?" The Captain asked, all business.
"A hospital." Ianto responded. "I've had them seal the floor."
"Right, Tosh, Suzie, Owen with me. Ianto, keep an eye on Raven and answer her questions." The Captain ordered before running to the lift, the others joining him.
"Well then, Ianto Jones," I smiled at the Welsh man. "What do you do around here?"
"I'm the archivist. But I also make coffee and clean up after the others." He responded, moving to one of the computers and logging into something that gave him access to the hospital's CCTV.
"What's it like, working with aliens?" I asked him curiously.
"It's…" Ianto hesitated a moment. "It's the best job in the world."
"How many aliens have you met?" I asked, moving away from the topic of what type of job it was since he didn't want to talk about it.
"A few. But I don't normally go out on missions." Ianto answered.
"Hold on, that's that police women from last night." I suddenly said pointing to the screen where it showed a woman entering the corridor that Ianto had had sealed off.
"And there's the Weevil." Ianto agreed, pressing a button on his ear piece. "Jack. North corridor, fifth floor. A civilian has found the Weevil."
"A man has just entered the corridor." I told Ianto and he relayed the information to the Captain.
Together we watched as the cop and the man approached the Weevil, they appeared to be talking to it but the camera wasn't situated in a way that let us see their faces. The man got very close to the Weevil and it finally jumped him. Biting down on his neck. At that moment the Captain appeared and pulled the Weevil off the man who lay on the floor unmoving.
Using the cameras, Ianto followed the team out to the parking lot where they quickly fled. Swerving around the cop who was stood in the middle of the road.
"Yes sir," Ianto replied to something said in his ear piece.
"What does he want you to do?" I asked him curiously.
"Find the identity of the women and collect the SUV when they abandon it up top." Ianto responded.
"I can help if you want?" I suggested.
"You know how to use these?" he motioned to the extremely high-tech computers.
"I'm good with computers. I'm sure I could figure it out." I told him confidently.
"Alright. I need to go up top and pick up the car. Jack's planning on coming the scenic route." Ianto explained, deciding to trust the kid since Jack obviously had plans to recruit her (otherwise he wouldn't have brought her back to the hub and then asked him to answer her questions).
"Scenic route?" I asked confused.
"You'll see." He smiled mysteriously before heading back to the lift.
Shaking my head, I isolated the picture of the women from the hospital footage before hacking into the police personnel files and looking for her. I was sure that Toshiko had facial recognition software but I didn't want to go digging through the system for it, so I manually went through all the personnel files. I was about half way through the files when there was the sudden sound of machinery from the roof. Looking up I saw a concrete slab descending from the ceiling with the Captain, Toshiko, Suzie and Owen on it.
"Scenic route." I shook my head before turning back to finding out who the woman was.
The four of them ran up to the computer Toshiko had been working on before and brought up the CCTV from outside the Millennium Centre. The cop was stood, looking around herself before she was harassed by a traffic warden.
"Twenty quid says she'll be back." Owen said with a smirk.
"I'm not taking that bet." Suzie shook her head.
"Where's Ianto?" Toshiko asked noticing he wasn't in the room.
"He went to get the car and the Weevil." I told them crossing my arms.
"And what are you doing on that computer?" The Captain asked, more curious then angry.
"Identifying the cop. Her name's Gwen Cooper, she's a PC, been with the police for the last four years and lives with her boyfriend." I told them turning the monitor so they could see the file I had brought up.
"Very good." The Captain complement. "Tosh could you deal with the dead janitor?"
"Sure." Toshiko nodded.
"Suzie, you can get back to what you were doing before the Weevil alert." Suzie nodded and moved over to her work station. "Owen, I want that report finished by the end of the day."
"Yes boss." Owen muttered annoyed.
"Raven, with me." The Captain moved towards his office.
With a raised eyebrow I followed him. It was starting to become a habit following him around without an explanation. Jack's office was separate from the rest of the team. But he could still look through the glass in his office onto the team, but they would not be able to see him from their work stations.
There was a filing cabinet stood next to what appeared to be a Victorian meets futuristic safe. There was a solid oak desk to one side of the room, piles of paperwork stacked on either side of the work space. A coat stand's purpose was swiftly revealed as the Captain removed his coat and hung it up in a swift and often practised motion.
The only other thing of significance in the room was a two-person sofa set to the corner of the room with a low table in front of it. I imagined it was only used when the Captain wanted to talk with his employees on a more even footing or a more relaxed setting then with him behind his desk, where his authority would be more pronounced.
