Hey folks! I'm back! I went away to a friends for awhile so I couldn't update but here I am again! Hope you like the new chapter!
Okay, just something I need to say. Saw Waters of Mars. Was awesome and slightly scary! What was up with him? (If you know what I'm on about feel free to PM me about it!)
Anywho! On with the show!
Allons-y!
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Part IV - Building and Conversing
The soldiers came at ten o'clock that evening, four big men with big guns. But to John's senses they were at least friendly, even if they didn't actually trust him. Much to his relief his homeless clothes and his suit were returned to him and he promptly redressed in a mismatch of the both. Thankfully his converse weren't even splattered with blood. He'd done an inventory the moment they were returned, of course, to check that Torchwood were honouring their word. To his surprise they were.
He felt nervous as he was bundled into the back of an old Land Rover jeep with Rose sitting beside him. Something was wrong with this. They shouldn't be so trusting. Or maybe they just thought he needed closer watching? Either way he was worried about his disguise. What if he couldn't maintain it? She was never meant to know...ever.
So they returned to that enormous house that John had been slightly in awe of. It was dark now and quiet. The children were asleep and the dog lazed by the fire. Most of the servants had also gone home. John was placed in a different room this time, a guest room, and quickly settled in. He'd get a tour the next day, they said, after everyone went to work and the children went to school. He wouldn't go to Torchwood immediately but he would get access to materials.
This Torchwood did seem honestly alien friendly. He sensed they could turn nasty but wouldn't. He guessed he could attribute that to his dad's influence, strong even now.
The moment they left him to his own devices he began disassembling the electronic appliances in his room to see if he could use any of the parts. He'd need to make a resonator, a stabiliser and probably a communicator. He couldn't make a vessel to cross through the gap without being discovered, he'd have to leave that up to his dad, but he could at least help. Also if he built all the parts separately they might not find out what he was up to quite so quickly.
He didn't want to hurt anyone after all. He was lying and deceiving but it was for a good reason.
His sonic pen flashed into his hand as he carefully took apart the phone and a nearby lamp. Carefully he rearranged the wires into a new pattern and reconfigured them. There was only a little he could do with what was available right this second but at least he could make a start. Also he wasn't due to sleep for another four days so he might as well fill the time. It was going to be a long night.
When a person focuses and works hard they tend to lose track of the outside world. This is especially strong in the case of Time Lords and their chronic problem of completely missing life's little problems in favour of the bigger picture. John had sunk into a world of equations and wires and quantum temporal physics. He missed the sun rising and the servants stirring. Missed the slam of a car door that signalled the departure of the human self of his father, missed the sounds of Jack, the eldest child, going to school. It was only the laughter of Donna and the dog Verity, as well as footsteps coming down the hall in his direction, that alerted him to the world once more.
Hastily he shoved his electronics back into his pockets and hid the evidence. He lay back on the head and turned his head to the door as Rose knocked and entered. "You're awake," she greeted with a small smile and some surprise. His ever reliable internal clock informed him that it was about eight thirty.
"Ah yes," he replied promptly. "I don't sleep."
She paused, eyebrows raised, "you're nocturnal?" she asked.
"No, I have naturally higher levels of dopamine and adrenaline in my brain and circulatory system. Due to the higher chemical efficiency and use of brain space I need to sleep a lot less," he elaborated with a wave of his hand.
"Oh," Rose replied and stared at him.
Feeling awkward he coughed and looked away, scratching the back of his neck.
"Sorry," Rose exclaimed when she realised she was staring, "you just seem oddly familiar." She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly stressed. She wiped the expression away and smiled at John, "it's been agreed that, until an exact course of action is decided, you can work out of my father's study. I trust you know where that is?"
John allowed himself to flush with embarrassment, "Yeah I think so," he laughed. "What kind of equipment do you have?" he asked after a second.
"We've had some Jathar communicators brought in. We also have what we think is a Threll motherboard and some other knickknacks. Arrived just now," she told him, gesturing for him to stand up.
John nodded; there were parts he could use there. It would be difficult but the task was definitely doable. Proximity to the rift would still be a problem.
The office itself was spacious, just as he remembered, but a great space had been cleared away for him to work in. It had tools and circuits and spare parts everywhere. John whistled appreciatively as he picked up some of the pieces available. They'd definitely had alien help with some of these. He took a seat and spread the items out before him thoughtfully.
"I'm going to need some paper," he told Rose as he took off his jacket, revealing his white shirt and red tie. He rolled up the sleeves and moved to put his black glasses.
Rose nodded and left the room briefly to get it. John knew he was being watched even as she left the room. His hand itched to reach for his sonic pen but he couldn't' use it too much here. Couldn't look too much like his dad.
The paper slid in front of him with a pencil when Rose silently returned and took a nearby seat to watch him. "What are you building?" she asked curiously as his hands began to sketch.
"A Deathstar."
"Excuse me?"
He laughed and chewed the pencil thoughtfully as his brain began to cobble together the equations. "I'm thinking of building a sonic resonator or subquantum sequencer," he replied as he noted down the numbers. He scratched the side of his head habitually, scribbling away.
"What do they do?" Rose asked as she craned to see his drawing.
Obligingly he showed it to her with a smile, "tell my family that I'm lost and they need to come get me," he laughed.
"Oh," she hummed and sat back, fiddling idly with her hair. "You have family?"
"Yes, yes I do," he replied grandly. "My dad and older sister. She is such a pain!" He glanced up when she laughed.
"I think that's the obligation of a sister," she explained and smiled easily. "What about your mother?"
John hands froze over the machine he was just beginning to take apart, he couched slightly. This was awkward because technically she was sort of his mother. Yet she wasn't because others had raised him. Best to answer how he'd always answered. "I, ah, don't really have one," he muttered tightly.
"Oh, does your species reproduce without a second gender?" Rose asked in confusion, leaning back on her chair slightly.
"No, it's not that," he shook his head and forced his hands to resume their work. "My mother's...gone. Dad lost her a long time ago. I've never known her." He coughed again and moved back to work. It wasn't emotion that chocked him, it was the awkward conversation.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Rose gasped and immediately looked guilty.
He looked up and smiled at her, hiding the emotion and feeling behind the smile. "Don't worry!" he chuckled, "I get it all the time." He shrugged and scratched his neck, "I did sort of have a mother, a few friends of my father who helped out. That sort of thing. Don't think I missed much to be honest."
"You look familiar," Rose said suddenly.
"Pardon?" he asked, feigning confusion, looking up at her.
"That look on your face, like you know it hurts but you hide it and tell the world you're fine. I've seen it before," she looked away embarrassed. "Sorry, didn't mean to pry."
"We all have our coping mechanisms," he replied quietly. He really need to break the tension, he realised as he began fusing wires. "What about your family?" he asked, trying to move onto an easier topic.
"Mine?"
"Yeah? Wasn't it your spawn I grabbed out of the road yesterday?" he looked at her over his glasses.
"Spawn?" she choked, laughing.
"Sorry, I'm not translating right am I? You should try assimilating a language, I tell you!" He acted mock offended and was happy when she laughed.
"I see," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, she was mine. Her name's Donna, she's four. I have a son Jack, who's six. He's at school. I've been married to my husband Jonathan for about seven years," she explained and he could see the love she held for him in her eyes.
"Seven years huh? That's a long time. Where'd you two meet?" he grunted as he forced a conduit into position.
"You wouldn't believe me," she smiled shaking her head and dislodging her blonde hair.
"Come on," he beamed, dusting the front of his shirt, "I'm an alien from outer space, crash landed and building a suped up mobile phone. Who has a less believable story?" He looked at her kindly, genuinely interested. His hands had long ago begun to move on automatic.
"We met on a beach in Norway as the first man I loved sort of left us there to try and pick up the pieces of our lives," she said simply. That wasn't how John would've put it. Ouch.
"Really? What a jerk," he commented truthfully, allowing his hands to fiddle.
"No, it was necessary, a necessary cruelty you might say," she nodded and he wondered whether she was trying to convince him or herself. "Nevertheless, we fell in love and eight years later here we are."
"Living a life day after day," he agreed. "One of the greatest adventures." He noted the silence and looked up at her innocently, "what did I say?" he asked when he noticed her staring at him as if he had two noses.
"Nothing. I knew someone who used to say that all the time, that's all," she swallowed and looked away.
"Oh sorry! Didn't mean to do anything," he mumbled guiltily.
There was an awkward silence.
"What does your father do?" Rose asked after a moment, to ease the conversation.
"Oh, he's a bodger. That's the right word I think. He fixes this and that for whoever wants it," John shrugged. That was pretty accurate, he thought.
"Like a freelancer?" Rose inquired.
"Exactly so," John agreed with a smile.
Just like that they eased back into easy conversation that would last the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon. In fact it lasted until dinner that night, after the children were long asleep. Rose Tyler would never have put this strange alien as anyone threatening and she was good at identifying liars. However there was something he wasn't saying. She was determined to find out what it was.
But no good ruse lasts forever.
It was only at dinner that anyone noticed that John wasn't quite what he implied. Weirdly it was Jackie Tyler who noticed first, not because she was especially observant but because John and Jonathan had the bad luck to be seated next to each other. They'd traded a look of agreement over his concealment and had been edgy for some time. But the closer they were the more apparent it became that they were very, very similar.
Jackie all but screamed and everyone at the table jumped round. "What is it, sweetheart?" Pete asked in utter confusion, standing to go to his wife.
"They look the same," Jackie squeaked, gesturing between John and Rose's husband.
"Sort of similar I guess," Jonathan shrugged.
"It's more than that," Rose said slowly, examining them with a critical eye. "You're almost identical, only a little bit different!" She was almost shouting. The two looked at each other.
"Coincidental?" John remarked hopefully, beginning to slowly back up.
"I travelled with the Doctor long enough to know the coincidences are never what they seem," Rose replied, standing also and advancing on the retreating boy. "Who are you? You refuse to tell us and stupidly we believe you, why is that?"
"It's my natural born psychic-empathic field exacerbated by a foreign sun," John replied before he could stop himself.
"Pardon?" Pete turned to look at him, concern in his eyes.
"It's the face," he sighed rolling his eyesbefore he could stop himself. "Some of us are hypnotic, some of us can rewrite and sift through memories and I just appear trustworthy to anyone I meet. Until I'm proved untrustworthy people instinctively believe me and want to be friendly to me. It won't work on you lot now of course, you've all got suspicious of me after all. It's a natural thing though. I don't have any control over it, it just sort of happens alright?" He shrugged and moved to get out of his chair.
"Sit!" Rose commanded.
John sat quickly.
She turned to Jonathan, "well?" she asked in a clipped tone.
"What?" he retorted, holding his hands up defensively.
"You know something, I know you do. You two have been shifty all dinner and one of you is going to start talking," she growled. They both swallowed. "Well?" She looked at the two of them again.
"It's complicated," Jonathan began and John face palmed.
When Jonathan looked at him, curious as to the interruption, John replied; "way to tell her there was something going on, idiot!"
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- D