A/N: thanks to xxXxGracieyCullenHarknessxXxx for agreeing to beta the story for me.

Torchwood is owned by the BBC. Survivors is copywrited to the BBC and the Terry Nation estate. All rights are reserved to the owners of these programs.

Vigil: A Torchwood/Survivors crossover by scifigurl720

Chapter Two: The Quest

Abby Grant, an attractive forty year old housewife with shoulder length brown hair, and brown eyes drove south. Her thoughts were muddled. She had no certain destination now. Having just come from the hospital where hopes died of having a successful reunion with her son. After a smelly and emotionally exhausting search through darkened hallways, there had been no sign of her Peter. Ironically, it was Peter's surviving leukemia which separated them. He had responded well to treatment and had been in remission for six months. Peter had gone to Castle Crag for an adventure holiday. Abby let him go reluctantly, after a prolonged discussion in which David and Peter had both insisted she was too over protective. She remembered Peter's words. 'It'll be all right mum. I'll be back in a few weeks. You will barely miss me.'

She grimaced at the thought of her deceased husband David. It was so hard to accept that he was gone. He was the person Abby depended on. They had been married for over twenty years. A self-starter, David had built his own business as a builder.

She wondered how many people like her were left to mourn family members? There didn't seem to be many survivors. She hadn't found anyone alive in the small village she called home. The government authorities had lied to people on the news, saying there was a flu epidemic and had cautioned people to stay home. They hadn't told the public there were any fatalities. There were only scenes of patients getting vaccine shots and government workers managing the "temporary crisis" on the BBC.

Turning onto a junction with M62 she drove up the on ramp of the motorway leaving any hope of finding Peter. There was no traffic on the motorways. She hadn't seen another person since encountering Mr. Brown at Peter's camp at Castle Crag.

Abby zoomed through the stop sign, and was jerked out of her thoughts as a horn sounded behind her. Glimpsing a black car behind her in the lane she was merging with.

The black range rover swerved in front of her, hitting a pole and a small sign, coming to a stop on the left side of the road. She hit the brakes, parking in the right lane of traffic. Abby thought to herself, 'I could've been killed. I could've killed someone.'

Jittery with adrenaline, her hands shook as she swiftly exited the car, leaving the door open in her haste to see how the other driver fared.

An angry black man swiftly emerged from a loaded down range rover pickup, the back of his truck filled with supplies. He must have been shopping in a nearby town.

"What are you doing? You could have killed us both!" he shouted.

Abby continued jogging over to the black man. His hair was close cropped, almost clean shaven. He wore a grey jacket, green shirt, and khakis.

"I'm sorry-" she said, giving him an apologetic look.

He pointed at her as he yelled. "I mean of all the terrible pieces of driving…" He left off, shaking his head.

Concerned that she might have damaged his vehicle, she asked, "Is your car badly damaged?"

He turned to inspect his rover, hands spread wide signaling a surrender to circumstance. He said, "It's okay."

Abby looked back at her car, which was undamaged by the near collision, noting she had left the car door open. In a rush to see how the other driver was, she must've forgotten to close it. Abby replied, "I mean, how was I supposed to know you were there?" The roads had been empty since she woke yesterday.

"I have the right of way!" he insisted, the stranger's expression derisive as he said, "You do know how to drive, don't you?"

A flash of anger quickened in her gut. Who was he to lecture her? Accidents happen, she thought. Exasperated with this fruitless discussion of whose fault it was, Abby said, "Fine. It was my fault. Would you like my insurance details?"

He paused, expression serious as he stared her down, "Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Well I thought so." Abby's lips quivered in amusement. They stared at each other for a moment then Abby cracked up. Her sense of humor tickled at the thought of exchanging insurance details. There'd be no more insurance companies. It was a new world now.

They both laughed. The man smiled at her. He had a nice smile. His teeth white and straight, and skin the colour of chocolate. He looked to be in his early forties, was probably was some sort of professional.

Abby waited at the roadside resting her eyes for a moment, as the stranger excused himself to turn off the motor of his car. It wouldn't do to waste petrol. She had already abandoned her own vehicle yesterday, trading it in for the red fiesta she was currently driving, dragging a dead body of a woman with blond hair and a trench coat from the car to side of the highway. She had felt bad abandoning the body there like rubbish, but she didn't have time to bury the dead. She had to search for Peter.

Abby had awoken yesterday morning after passing out from the flu. She had no idea how long she had slept. Her legs were shaky and she had to stagger downstairs where she found her husband David dead in a recliner. The power and water was out. From the looks of her refrigerator it had to have been for a day or two, the food was going off now.

After finding no one in the town she called home alive, she returned to the house, covering David in a brown blanket. She drug him outside to the yard, later dowsing his remains with petrol and setting it aflame. Abby remembered the note she'd taped to the front door for Peter.

Peter,

I can't stay here. Wherever you are, I'll find you.

Mum

It had seemed so simple. She would drive to the camp and find Peter. After a two hour drive she had arrived at Castle Crag. A search through the dorms revealed none of the dead was Peter.

The sole survivor there, an instructor at Castle Crag Centre, Callum Brown had told her that Peter was one of the first boys to get the flu virus. Mr. Brown had stayed at the school while Phil Emerson had driven Peter to a nearby Hospital. Abby had wanted to set out for the hospital immediately, but was talked into staying at the school with Mr. Brown as it would be dark soon. She hadn't slept at all that long night. Worry for Peter had kept her up.

Abby had searched the hospital the next day for her boy or Mr. Emerson. Brown had given her a photo of Emerson and Peter rock climbing, but neither were there. She remembered collapsing in the hallway, crying as she listened to an old recording of Peter's voice on her out of service mobile. Mr. Brown had told her the phone would be useless to her now, a relic of a bygone age. To survive people would have to start from scratch to restore civilization, to re-learn forgotten skills. She had asked what Mr. Browns plans for the uncertain future were. He said he would bury the boys, then do some hiking.

Abby clung to the hope of finding her son, it was what kept her going, otherwise she would just lie down and die. She knew in her heart Peter was alive. She just couldn't bear to accept anything else.

Eyes taking in the green landscape around her she took a deep breath, waiting for the stranger to come back, Abby took a seat on the metal fence dividing incoming and outgoing lanes. The stranger returned with a silver thermos and white cup in hand, filling the cup as he walked across. Extending a cup of tea, he said, "Here you go."

"Thank you," she said. Holding the cup in her right hand.

He poured himself a drink in the thermos cap.

"Oh," she sighed, taking a sip of warm tea, "I never really appreciated how wonderful tea is before. "

The man snapped the button closed on the thermos, staring into the distance. "That milk won't last long. I'll have to get a hold of a cow before long, or a goat." He took a drink.

"Is that what you're going to do? Find a farm?"

"Something like that," he gestured, holding the cap in his right hand and the thermos in the other. "Just a small place where I can grow a few things. Keep a few animals."

"You make it sound quite nice."

He nodded, "It will be. It will be hard work."

"Well, You'll find other people to help." Abby thought people would have to band together now to survive.

Flinging the remnants of tea to the tarmac, the stranger insisted, "I don't need other people."

After shaking the thermos lid to get rid of any remaining liquid, he asked, "How about you?"

"I was looking for my son," Abby shrugged, "But now I don't know what to do." Abby had no destination in mind. She had no idea where Phil Emerson might've taken Peter, or if Peter was wondering around out there all alone?

"But you-" he paused, "You can't stay in the city." Shaking his head negatively, he insisted, "It's too dangerous."

"I've had the virus," Abby insisted. She had survived the flu, she would get through this.

"I'm talking about cholera, typhoid. All the diseases that come with millions of unburied bodies."

Abby considered her options as he continued to talk.

"Those places will be hell." The black man then walked to her right, gesturing at the mostly empty mug Abby was holding, he said, "I'd better get moving."

"Oh?" Abby questioned, dumping the remainder of tea to the ground, she handed him the borrowed cup.

"You're on a tight schedule then?" she asked. The stranger seemed like a capable man. One with a determination to succeed at the tasks ahead.

The stranger smiled as he walked to the back of his rover. Grabbing a towel from the rear bed of the pickup, he used it to dry the teacup, saying, "You have to live you know. You owe it to the people you loved to-" He paused. "To keep going. It's what they would have wanted."

Her expression hopeful, Abby said, "If I recovered, then maybe my son did too? He could be out there somewhere." If he was Abby would find him. She wouldn't rest until she found Peter.

"All the more reason to keep yourself fit and healthy. That way if you find him you can make a fresh start," he said. The stranger stowed the cup and towel away in the corner of the truck bed.

Abby questioned, "You really think he might be alive?"

He shrugged, walking to the door of his truck, "Miracles happen. Even now." He turned to open the driver's side door of the black rover and looked intent on leaving, placing his hand on the door. Then he stopped abruptly, turning around to face Abby, he said, "You could travel with me for awhile if you want?" His voice teasing as he said, "Obviously you're not safe driving yourself. So?"

Abby strode across the lane intent on closing distance with the stranger. Defending her driving skills she said, "I'm actually a very good driver"

He smiled, shaking his head in amusement, "I noticed."

Abby smiled, "I'd like that."

He went on. "It's just for now, because I've got plans of my own. Greg Preston," he said, extending a hand for Abby to shake.

"Abby Grant," she said, shaking Greg's hand. "I'll get my stuff," she said.

Abby ran back to her car to retrieve her belongings. Abby returned to the rover carrying two duffle bags. Greg helped her stow them in the back of the truck.

She seated herself in the passenger seat and Greg cranked the ignition, Abby could feel vibration in her feet from the floorboard as Greg backed onto the motorway. The rover's motor purring as he began to drive away. Abby looked back into the passenger side mirror at the dwindling image of the abandoned fiesta behind them and smiled. She'd made a new friend today. Hopefully she and Greg would meet others along the way who would band together to make a new life.

A/N: The dialogue was taken from the first episode of Survivors. Any mistakes are the author's. I wanted to introduce some of the Survivors cast to readers realizing some viewers of Torchwood might not have seen the other series. I was only able to view the series via the internet. I am American and apologize for any grammatical and cultural errors herein. I give thanks to xxXxGracieyCullenHarknessxXxx for beta reading this story for me.