So very sorry that this is a million years late! University has really put a damper on all my fanfiction writing at the moment, but after the school year ends, I'm hoping to get back into things a bit more, especially since I won't be able to go anywhere! Hope you all are safe and healthy during this time, and I hope you enjoy this (admittedly short) new chapter!
Susan ran.
The wind whipped through her hair, and she felt her eyes burn hot as the icy cold air pierced at the tears in them. She couldn't think. Not about David and Alex she had left behind, not about the threat of Roboheads that might lie around every corner. No, all she saw was blood red fury mingled with stone cold grief.
Her grandfather… the murderer of their race. All this time, she thought that he had been the one on the right side of things. When they first left Gallifrey together, all she had been able to think about was the stuffiness of their people. Such strict adherence to rules and order, she had thought, that they weren't able to see any fun to be had in the universe.
Hadn't been able to, that is. The shards of the dead planet twisted in her chest. A howl seethed from her mouth that might have been akin to a lion's roar, except this particular noise held the visceral, shattered emotion of the depths of human rage.
All those people… echoed in her head like a memory. Another uninvited thought surfaced before she shoved it back with the blunt force of agonized anger:
Such delightful penance, this must be.
No. No time to reflect. Besides, if she decided to reflect on that time now, she didn't think she'd be able to hold back her telepathic barriers, and whatever creature that had taken over the man who used to be her grandfather might find her.
She rushed down once familiar streets that were made unfamiliar by the blurriness of her tears. She knew exactly where she was going. She hadn't been there in so long (mainly out of protection for her family), but now, it seemed like the most obvious place to go.
The Torchwood Institute had a long, dodgy history. When Susan first began helping the humans during the first Dalek invasion, she had been picked up by their radar, amid numerous attempts to recruit her to their force that was in a constant state of dwindling but never truly went away completely due to the very strange nature of their leader.
She had gone on several missions with them to see their process, but ultimately, Susan found their methods far too patchwork and violent for her liking. It hadn't been until… after her escape from Gallifrey, that she had been able to get to know the man in charge better. Though she would be hesitant to admit it, in the wake of her time in the Last Great Time War, Jack Harkness had saved her life.
She quickly found the perception-filter protected red telephone booth that served as the entrance to the London Torchwood unit, which was quite frankly more like an underground shelter for those fleeing the Daleks at this point. Torchwood itself was far off from its original mission, but from what Susan remembered, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
Hands trembling, she gripped the phone with white knuckles, dialing Jack's extension directly. At her biosignature on the keypad, the lift disguised as the booth's floor began to sink through the ground.
"Harkness." The voice nearly made Susan sob in relief. Her breath caught in her throat, but she was able to muster out her name, the one most familiar to Torchwood.
"Arkytior." The name gritted off her tongue like sandpaper. "Harkness, this is Arkytior. I need…" A lump of emotion stuck her breath to her throat. "I need to talk to you."
"Come right down."
As the lift continued its descent, the phone slipped from Susan's grasp as the initial rage filtered away, replaced by unadulterated grief. Her back pressed against the wall of the lift, and she sank down its wall, clutching her hair in her hands and rocking back and forth. She never felt more like a child.
Susan felt the lift stop, but she did not make any motion to leave. It wasn't until she felt the so very unnatural presence of the immortal grate at her Timesense that she opened her eyes.
"Susan," Jack Harkness said softly as he crouched down beside her. "Can you walk?"
Wobbling, Susan used the walls of the lift to get to her feet. She looked at the man who had come to be like a brother to her with devastation in her eyes.
"Jack," she said in a barely audible voice. "It's all gone. He killed them all. Gallifrey is gone."