My name is Gwen Cooper. Or Gwen Williams, depending on how you look at it. I'm happily married, living on an isolated coast a Wales where it never seems to stop raining. I have a beautiful daughter, my Anwen. I named her after them; I named her in their honour. My teammates. Once I had this wonderful, horrible job. I worked for this impossible man, alongside three magnificent friends. They're all gone now.
That was what I thought, anyway. Until one particularly windy day, at around eight in the morning, when I was feeding Anwen.
"That's right darling! The train's coming into the tunnel - open wide!" Another gloopy spoonful of banana and custard baby food found its way dribbling down her neck, most of it ending up in her bib.
Gwen sighed and wiped the mess away, turning to wash her hands in the sink and rub her forehead; not another headache, she begged. Yet, this was stranger. The thumping she could feel behind her eyes, like four hearts beating and pulsing in unison. A fizzing sensation soared through her skull and she dropped the spoon that had been clutched in her hand. Deciding that it was air that she needed, she attempted to open the window. After several moments of bashing on the window pain, and crying out about what a terrible, run-down house it was, the window flung open and a gust of cold air slammed into her face.
She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes and massaging her temples with her fingers. Behind her she could hear Anwen giggling loudly, but there was something else grasping her attention. She peered out of the window and blinked as the wind attacked her face. There. On the hillside. She shook her head in disbelief as, on the edge of a distant cliff, stood four figures. She squinted in an attempt to make out who they were, but they became no clearer. All she knew was that there was a powerful urge churning in her stomach, pulling her towards that very cliff edge. Gwen rushed to the cupboard under the stairs, grabbing her coat and pulling her boots on. She then peered up to where her trusty old gun lay, and grabbed that too. Better safe than sorry.
"Rhys! I'm going for a walk, take care of Anwen for me?" She hollered up the stairs, then shoved her gun into her back pocket. Rhys called down in annoyance, complaining that he was in the middle of painting an old bookshelf. Gwen giggled, poor Rhys, trying to make this miserable old house a little brighter but failing terribly: his DIY skills weren't exactly up to scratch.
"I'm trying to get this bloody thing done!" He yelled, then cried out in pain as the hammer fell on his toe.
"Leave it for a bit, make sure Anwen doesn't make even more of a mess of herself!" Gwen shouted, a slight smile of amusement on her face. She headed for the door, blowing Anwen a kiss to which she giggled at and waved her arms, then Gwen left the house and slammed the door behind her.
Instantly, the piercingly cold wind battered against her face. She shoved her hands deep into her pockets and trudged onwards. The four figures were still standing there, strong and bold and unmoving. She headed towards them, as if some invisible string was laced from her body to that distant cliff edge, pulling her towards it. The clouds above her gave a terrifying rumble, the sky turning such a dark grey that it was almost black. Then the rain began to pour. Gwen continued to journey towards those people. She felt her hand subconsciously touch at her gun as her heart began to pound faster.
The figures started to become clearer. More human-like and real. Gwen knew that they were important. So, so important. She could feel it in her chest, as if these people meant more to her than anything in the world. That was when the realisation struck. One of them was wearing a long trench coat, another was a woman wearing a long, leather jacket. The one to her right, a man, was wearing a rather posh waistcoat. The last was also a man, wearing jeans and a short duffel coat. But how?
Gwen bounded towards them, her heart soaring, so much confusion running through her veins it almost made her dizzy. Then she heard her name being called, in an American accent so recognisable she almost screamed out in delight.
Gwen stood, soaking wet and out of breath and on the tallest cliff for miles, in front of her old teammates. Torchwood.
They all stood, grinning at her. Well, apart from Owen who had a rather moody look on his face that Gwen guessed was due to the lack of people, buildings and roads and the presence of a rather heavy, freezing downpour.
"Hello." Gwen said softly and rather unlike herself. She was evidently doubtful, and who could blame her. Her teammates were supposed to be...well..."You should be dead." She stated matter-of-factly and took a step backwards.
"But we're here." Owen said, beginning to smile. He face crinkled sweetly, the way it once did a long while back when everything seemed a lot simpler.
"How can you be? It's just not possible." Gwen shook her head in denial, the stared at Jack with her eyes wide and rather beautiful - like brown hazelnuts roasted in a toasty fire. He looked down at her, his stance at ease, his eyes full of life. He gave a chuckle and held out an object that Gwen gasped at in recognition.
"The stone!" Her voice echoed over the Cliffside and out across the sea, hitting the waves and bouncing back to them, floating on the wind.
-x-
Gwen and Rhys had taken to tending the garden, no, not 'gardening', Rhys insisted that the word 'gardening' made them sound like pensioners. 'Tending the garden', a lot younger, cooler.
"Alright, alright. You can pull up the weeds instead. I'll try and shift this blooming thing." Gwen sighed, fed up of Rhys moaning about how he had done his back in. Beside them in her pushchair, Anwen giggled at her parents, sucking at her mitten. Gwen smiled over at her beautiful daughter. Anwen, the one person she would give up everything for. The reason she had moved so far away from civilisation, the reason she had given up Torchwood and aliens and the wonders of the Universe that nobody else could see. Her beautiful daughter, she'd keep her safe at any cost.
"These damn weeds, oh why did we move here Gwen?" Rhys huffed, using his rake to ply long-rooted dandelions out of the soil. Gwen turned to face him, her face deadly serious and her eyes glaring at him.
"To keep you and Anwen safe." She hissed, before turning back to haul up a paving stone. Rhys shook his head and wiped a layer of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.
"Alright love, that wasn't exactly what I meant."
"I know what you meant." Gwen mumbled, concentrating on removing another paving stone. She was trying to remove the old path up the side of the house and replace it with a pretty array of sunflowers. As she heaved another paving slab from the ground, groaning in pain, she was suprised to see something lodged in the soil underneath, something shimmering in the watery sunlight.
Gwen bent down onto her knees, hypnotised momentarily by how beautiful an object it was. It seemed to be some kind of stone with glittering jewels encrusted into its outer layer. She picked it up gently with her fingers and turned it over in her palm, ignoring Rhys' nattering behind her as he moaned on and on about how cold the weather was, and how long it had been since he'd seen his parents. Gwen stared into the cold depths of the shiny pebble, blinking at it, before pocketing it and continuing to work, nodding absent-mindedly at Rhys' long rant.
That evening Gwen had placed the stone on her bedside desk, staring at it. What was so intriguing about the bloody thing? She couldn't tell. It was just so beautiful, so stunning, so…alien? No. It wasn't possible. She'd moved away from all that. She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. If only it was an alien artefact, and she'd wake up to find herself back in Cardiff. If only she could jump out of bed, shrug on her jacket and haul her jeans up over her thighs before kissing Rhys goodbye and heading to work. If only she could see her old team again. Ianto, Tosh, Owen and Jack. If there was one thing she wanted more than anything, it was to see her old teammates again.
As her eyes drooped, and sleep overcame her, her dreams whisking her off to distant stars and galaxies and universes where blowfish and weevils danced around in circles, at peace. Unknown to her, the stone on her bedside table began to glow a brilliant green, illuminating the room and bringing the gift of life to those so very far away, drawing them closer to the one person who needed them. Gwen had been right, this stone was alien, and it was going to turn her world upside down once more. She would never be able to leave Torchwood behind.