Hey guys! Sorry I was away so long! I was in Rome with my mother on a compulsory 'bonding trip'. So excited that new Doctor Who is out on sunday! *bounces*

Anywho! Same as usual! Enjoy!

Allons-y!

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Part III - I'm Going to Live Where?

John snuck into Pete's study the very next morning. Of course. No need to wait and he had a home to get back to. There was the low hum of his sonic pen and then he was in the study and before the computer. He wasn't as skilled as his father but he did know a thing or two about hacking and this really was a simple system. He began copying codes and date and plans, locating who, what and where if you will.

He couldn't have predicted that Pete Tyler would return from work early. He couldn't have predicted that he would head straight for his study. He couldn't have predicted that he would be discovered.

----

Pete Tyler had been having a strange day, a fluctuation in the Void scanners had sent a panic through the whole Torchwood building but investigation had yielded nothing. The walls of the world remained strong as ever and normalcy returned. He'd had more than a little paperwork and had decided that the best place to do it was at home. Jackie was at a friend's, Rose and Jon were at work. Jack was school and Donna should be with her nurse. Seemed the perfect place for quiet.

He hadn't expected to find a member of staff in his study, a place that should be locked at all times. One look in the boy's eyes had told him the boy was an intruder; working in Torchwood caused a man developed those instincts. The intruder had dark hair, slicked into a servant's cut and the appropriate servant's uniform. In his hand was a tool that Pete couldn't quite see but in his other hand were some of Pete's files, from the door he could recognise key codes to the Torchwood building.

There were a number of things that could be done with those codes. None of them good.

The next minute happened incredibly quickly. Pete vaguely realised he was shouting something, probably along the lines of 'stop thief', as the boy exploded into motion. He lithely dodged around Pete as Pete lurched towards him to try and grab him. He still had the files in hand as he danced out the door. Pete of course ran after him. The boy was extraordinarily fast as was at the front door in moments, Pete hot on his heels. He darted across the road and turned left to run down the street – clearly this was a planned escape route.

What happened next shocked both of them.

Donna was out on the front lawn playing with her nurse and their dog, a golden retriever named Verity. The dog had bounded after the fleeing boy and was fast catching up with him, barking loudly as she ran across the road. Donna looked up, smiling as she recognised the boy, and her four year old mind converted the entire situation into a game. She too got up and gave chase. She ran across the road.

Into the path of an oncoming car.

Pete couldn't have predicted what happened next. The boy turned at his shout and caught sight of Donna in the road. Instead of continuing to run he pivoted with incredible agility and threw aside the folder and codes he risked himself to get. He began to run. He leapt over Verity, confusing her, and ran straight into the road.

Strong hands grabbed Donna around the waist and hurled her at Pete, who only just managed to catch her. Pete's eyes flew to meet a pair of calm brown ones. There was no way the boy would get out of the way of the car as well, they both knew that. Yet Pete could see no fear there, no apprehension at all. The boy blinked and only had time to glance at the oncoming silver car as it hit him, side on, with an almighty crunch.

Time resumed its normal speed as his body hurtled across the tarmac, rolling to a bloody stop. Pete handed Donna to the nurse and immediately ran to his side. The boy was facing upward and had a grimace of pain on his face. His legs were broken, Pete could tell that from the angle of them. He also probably had internal bleeding because he was beginning to cough up blood. At least Pete didn't believe there to be a spinal injury and the top half of his body was mostly undamaged. His breathing was steady, if hitching in pain.

"Call an ambulance," he bellowed to the startled nurse as he pulled off his jacket and wadded it, holding it to a gaping wound on the boy's left leg and side to stem the bleeding. "What's your name?" he asked soothingly.

The boy looked at him blearily for a moment and then smiled. He shook his head wryly. Pete was surprised he could manage that. The boy grunted as he tried to move, it was obviously painful.

"Don't move, the ambulance will be here soon," Pete told him, trying to hold him still. He could already hear the sirens.

"Ugh, don't have to say that again," the boy wheezed through his cough. His eyes widened, "I can't go to hospital," he told Pete, grabbing his shirt urgently.

"You're injured. Of course you are going to hospital," Pete replied, still struggling to hold him still.

Any protest the boy made was lost as the paramedics arrived and hurriedly sedated him. Pete opted to ride in the ambulance. Any man, or boy, that willingly ran into the path of an oncoming car to save a small child was a good man, no matter what they may have been doing. Pete also needed to ask him what he wanted with the codes. And say thank you.

---

Doctor Copford was the medical director at East General Hospital, had been for ten years. He was experienced, an expert in his field and only ever called in for the worst emergencies. Yet in his life he had never seen a patient like the one brought in an hour ago. Never.

He was a John Doe, a thief caught in a car accident while saving a little girl. The damage to his legs was horrendous but at least internal injury was minimal, the car had caught at the optimum angle for his survival. What was strange was the internal bleeding healed itself before any of the doctors had a chance to even look at him.

The respiration of the patient was also odd, very regular and deep. Almost like there were extra channels for the air to travel through. He'd also stabilised with little to no outside help, the rate of recovery was astounding. Far beyond normal parameters. He achieved what took most patients weeks in mere minutes.

This was further seen when his initial x-rays were compared with the ones taken minutes ago. Fourteen breaks and five fractures had transformed into just three breaks with one fracture. The ligaments and tendons had completely realigned and healed.

The minute he'd seen this Doctor Copford had authorised a full body x-ray to confirm that the machine wasn't faulty as well as a blood test. It was there he saw the true extent of what they were dealing with. The boy's lungs were larger than average, able to filter oxygen far more efficiently. It was highly likely that with such a system he'd be able to survive physical asphyxiation. Not only that but other aspects of physiology were distinctly inhuman, organs that the doctor could not even begin to identify.

Most strange of all was that the boy possessed what appeared to Doctor Copford to be a bivascular system. He had two functioning hearts, one on the left and one on the right, that worked together to provide his body with blood. They were identical and beat in exact sync. There was literally no explanation.

His blood was full of elements that didn't match up the human biological make up on a cellular level. The boy's DNA didn't even code in the same manner!

This was way beyond him. There was one thing to do in this situation. Just one.

He turned to the nurse next to him who was waiting for instructions, "Get Torchwood," he told her firmly.

-----

Coming to after an accident isn't especially thrilling for anyone, least of all John. His internal body clock, very accurate in the case of Time Lords, told him that five hours and twenty three minutes had passed since the accident. The whiteness around him that he could see through his eyelids, the clear walls and clean smell told him that, much to his distaste, he was in a hospital. His day just got better and better. They would have had long enough to note his alien physiology and alert the very people John was avoiding. Great. Just great.

He did a quick internal check and found that his legs were still injured but at least his blood chemicals were normal, they hadn't tampered with anything, and his hearts were beating steadily. Brain functions weren't impeded and nerve conduction was at optimum levels. He'd be up and about in no time.

The stillness in the air told him no one was in the hospital room with him. The resonation of the heart monitors beside him, which were beeping out an interesting double beep, told him that he was in a small private room. He'd probably been moved the minute they realised he was an alien. He could feel scanning pads on his chest and forehead. There was a respiratory tube up his nose and down his throat, lovely. At least he wasn't hooked up to an IV. That was a small mercy.

He opened his eyes to look around. It was just as he thought empty small room with one bed. He glared at his hospital gown in disgust, what he'd give for his suit right now. The blinds were down over the window to the rest of the ward and he could hear voices out there. He just couldn't make them out.

He needed to get out of here. He needed to avoid the oncoming awkward situation. He sat up slowly and pulled the respiration tubes out, coughing quietly. He didn't want to think about them forcing those down his nose! He didn't need them anyway. He carefully put them to one side next to the generic vase of hospital flowers, trying his best to be completely silent.

It was only when he removed the pads that things got lively, he'd forgotten to turn the machines off. The air filled with sirens and warning alarms, John put his hands over his ears against the noise. This, of course, brought people running into the room. Nurses, doctors and soldiers surrounded him. Fantastic.

Well it was time for that end-all of all strategies! Play dead. Or at least very stupid.

As the nurses and doctors began to ask incessant questions he remained silent, eyes very big with acted fear. He started to edge away from them, trying to exude growing levels of panic. Thankfully this did work, the soldiers moved to drag away the doctors. Yet it was only to let far more dangerous people into the room.

Rose and Pete Tyler, as respective heads of Torchwood, were both on call it seemed. John had never met the woman that had contributed to a thousandth of the DNA strands in his biological make up. He had only seen her in a glimpse from the top of the stairs at Donna's when the world was ending or seen the flashes in his father's mind. Yet here he was, confronted with her. She was older than he remembered, of course. There was age on that beautiful face now, experience too. Maturity was shown by the formal office-wear she'd donned and he could see the wedding band on her finger. How time had changed things.

She stepped forward and stared straight back at him. She cleared her throat, "My name is Rose Tyler and I represent Earth on behalf of the species known as humankind." She introduced herself with a smile, kind hearted and welcoming.

John obeyed the hastily put together plan. He said nothing, only stared at her.

"Do you know where you are?" she asked.

John just looked back at her.

"We know you understand Earth-English as you have been recorded using it, so please answer us," she told him brusquely.

John cocked his head as he contemplated a possible answer.

"Why did you break into the Tyler residence and steal key codes for the Torchwood building? Is there something you need?"

Well at least they believed in benevolent. He hummed thoughtfully.

"If you do not cooperate we will be forced to detain you as a prisoner," she sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

John rolled his eyes visibly, "talk about pushy," he grumbled.

"Ah, so he does speak," Rose smiled victoriously.

His short lived ruse was up, sort of. Oh well. Never mind. "Yeah, he does," he muttered, cricking his neck slightly.

"Do you mind answering some questions for us?" Rose asked, bringing out a clipboard and giving a look to her father over her shoulder.

"That's an option?" John retorted but not sarcastically. He smiled at them, letting them know he was joking.

Rose looked down at the sheet before her and took out a pen; she sat down in the plastic chair beside his bed. "Okay," she murmured skimming the list in front of her. "Is this your original form or are you a shapeshifting organism blending in?"

"This is my original form," he answered, still looking around curiously. He wasn't lying technically, he hadn't shifted form yet.

"How long have you been on Earth?" she asked as she marked down his answer, not looking at him.

John thought carefully, "about twenty nine hours and fifteen minutes, I arrived about ten thirty yesterday morning I think," he told them. He craned to look at the clipboard held just out of his sight.

"How did you arrive?" she asked, tilting the board away. Jeez, this was very formal!

"Sort of crash landed, an accidental transmat," he answered. It was close to the truth wasn't it?

"Are there any more of your species present?"

"Nope, they were as shocked as I was," he grinned and bounced slightly.

"Can you identify your species and name, please?" She flipped the page on the clipboard, satisfied with the first set of questions.

John made a clucking sound with his tongue and looked to the side, "Er, not really. Not meant to and all that. I'd get in a lot of trouble," he mumbled guiltily. "I'm only a kid after all."

Surprisingly they didn't pressure him. "Do you come from this galaxy? Where is your planet of origin?"

He beamed at them all, "that's me! Home grown Milky Way, as with all other humanoids!"

"Planet of origin?" She looked up at him quickly.

"Can't really tell you that either," he said slowly. "Don't look at me like that! I'm not even meant to be here!" he whined.

"You possess sonic technology; have your race achieved interstellar travel?"

"Yes'm!" Not to mention time travel...

"You possess a bivascular physiology which we know links to another planet in the Milky Way. Are you from the planet Gallifrey?" She examined him carefully as she said this.

Now that was a loaded question. He'd have to lie and, like his father, he lied like a champion. "Nope. Never heard of it," he replied, puzzled.

"What are your intentions on this planet? Why did you break into the Tyler home?" Pete Tyler asked from the other side of the room.

John looked at him coolly for a second, a glare taught by his father. Then a smile cracked his features, "purely accidental and mildly touristy. Information suggested that you were the head of the homeworld security unit of this world, only rating five on the galactic scale. If I was going to find any way to get home you guys would have the technology," he replied easily.

"Why not ask us for help?"

"Do you know your own reputation?" John laughed, "Besides, it's species policy. No more contact than absolutely necessary."

"Secretive? Got something to hide?"

"No, just wary. We've been in a lot of wars," John looked away, his father's memories flashed before his eyes.

There was a small silence after he spoke. Maybe he'd given too much away?

"Why do you require the technology?" Pete Tyler continued.

"Well, due to whatever happened I am here alone without a way of contacting my ship or family. I just wanted to make a device to allow me to transmat back or contact someone. Nothing serious," he replied, allowing a smile to creep back onto his face.

Rose flipped through the papers on the clipboard before signing the bottom. Clearly the interview was over. "What now?" he asked as she got to her feet.

"Well despite the fact your refuse to offer identification the People's Republic are prepared to offer you aid, under supervision of course," she told him in an official voice. "However we must ask for a return in trade."

"A what?" he asked, cocking his head again.

"Basically, we need some information in exchange for help. That sort of thing," she elaborated. John smiled when he noticed she'd slipped into a broader accent. She was beginning to trust him.

"Fair enough I suppose," he mumbled, pretending to think about it carefully. "I do have one request, though."

"What is it? I make no promises you understand," Pete asked as he moved closer.

John grinned at him, "Can I have my clothes back? There should be two sets in your house not to mention what I was brought in. This hospital stuff is so demeaning," he complained with a laugh.

"That we can do," Rose chuckled, moving toward the door.

"Am I going to stay here?" he called after her. "You can't really keep me in a hospital right? What if everyone else finds out?" He was grabbing at straws.

Pete nodded, straightening his shirt cuffs. "Don't worry, everything is in hand. You'll be moved this evening." He, too, moved to leave.

"To the Torchwood building like a prisoner?" John asked, unable to keep the dread out of his voice and twitching anxiously.

"No," Pete replied, looking at him over his shoulder. "I think it only fitting that the man that saved the life of my granddaughter at the potential cost of his own is treated slightly better than that. Provided you share similar human habits of eating and living you will be residing in the Tyler mansion until further notice."

"I'm going to live where?" John asked incredulously as, both smiling, father and daughter left him alone in the room.

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So? How was it? Not too many mistakes I hope (I haven't had time to beta it...)

Please review and feed the ego!

Love you all!

- D