Chapter 2

15 hours earlier

The shopping centre was incredibly busy, with bodies surrounding her, nearly suffocating in their pressure as they pushed past. Desperately she fought through, going against the flow, trying to reach the other side of the complex. She had to get through. Everyone was relying on her.

There were too many people though and she was finding herself being pushed back with them. She struggled fruitlessly. She had to make it, but it was getting harder and that damn ringing wasn't helping. It was piercing through her very being with its shrill noise. Repeating over and over and over...

Gwen awoke with a gasp, feeling disorientated. Beside her, Rhys grunted.

"Answer that, will you?"

She looked at him, confused. The shrill ringing had followed her out of the dream. Her head snapped round and she caught sight of her phone on the side. She snatched up the phone and glared at it. Andy, flashed across the screen. Why was he phoning her at this time?

"Hello?"

"Gwen. Thought you would never answer. Probably too busy out chasing one of your invisible monsters. But I thought I should try and call you, as something didn't seem right about this one. There was just something odd about the whole thing. So I thought this has got Torchwood written all over it. I figured that this was right up your street."

"Up my street? Andy, what are you on about?"

"Don't worry." He had realised he'd been babbling. "Just get down here as soon as you can."

She arrived at the police station half an hour later wearing her usual jeans and trainers combo. After flashing her ID at the officer on the front desk, she was directed down to the cells where Andy was sat staring into one of the monitors.

"He's been quiet since we bought him in. Mind you, it took six of us to do that. Seems to have a feral nature to him."

"Who?" She asked.

"Him," he gestured the screen labelled cell 4.

Gwen looked up at the image. A figure was huddled on the floor between the wall and the bed. Its head was bowed and it wasn't moving.

Weevil, thought Gwen. She looked at Andy who new respect.

"You managed to bring that in?"

"It wasn't easy," he mumbled and she noticed a freshly stitched cut just above his collar. "Got him though. Had to Taser him to get him in the end. Been out of it since we bought him back"

"I'd better call the others to help move him," she reached for her phone in her pocket, still watching the screen. She stopped suddenly, staring intently where the figure had just stirred. There was something odd about it that she couldn't put her finger on. The way it had moved seemed familiar. She turned to Andy. "Was it disfigured, this creature? Did it walk with a limp?"

Andy looked insulted, "I don't think it would have taken six police officers to take down an injured man, Gwen."

"That's not what I, oh never mind. Let me in, will you?"

"What? On your own? I don't think I should. He's very dangerous."

"That's OK," she smiled at him. "I've got protection." She gestured her gun.

"How'd you get that in here?"

"Torchwood," she replied and started off towards the cells.

Andy sighed, then grabbed the keys and followed her to the cell of interest. She lowered the hatch and peeked through. The figure was still hunched over, by the bed. It wasn't clothed in the usual Weevil attire. It seemed to be wearing jeans and a t-shirt but it was hard to tell as they were in a very bad condition.

"Hello. My name's Gwen. I'm coming in, OK? Just want to check you over, make sure you're OK"

She wasn't sure but it had seemed that the figure had stiffened slightly when she called out her name.

"Unlock it," she said to Andy, who pulled a face. She mouthed go on and he reluctantly slide the key into the lock.

She sidestepped into the cell as Andy swiftly pulled the door closed behind her.

"I just want to make sure you're alright. Are you Ok?" She asked as she walked slowly towards the creature, one hand holding her gun, in case of surprises. The figure recoiled, trying to press itself into the bunk. Gwen felt a wave of apprehension wash over her.

"Hey, don't worry; I'm not going to hurt you, "she said softly, still slowly edging closer.

The figure looked up suddenly and snarled, baring its teeth. She gasped in shock, not because of the movement, but because of what it had revealed.

"Owen?" she breathed.

"What?" She heard Andy call from the door.

"Never mind," She answered him.

"Owen," she tried again, reaching out to him. The snarling had stopped but he was still showing his teeth. She could feel the anxiety intensify. It felt odd, displaced nearly, as she was also feeling very elated.

"Owen," she said again gently, touching his arm. "It's me, Gwen."

He stiffened again and started whimpering.

"Owen, what is it? What's wrong?"

He didn't answer her. His eyes were darting madly around the room, looking for escape, at the same time trying to tug his arm away from her grip. She realised suddenly that it was warm. She leaned closer to him and rested her other hand on his chest. Beneath it she could feel the steady rhythmic beat of his heart. She raised her hand to touch his face, gently turning it towards her. He stopped trying to pull away as they locked eyes.

"Oh Owen," she started, and then she pulled him towards her and held him in a tight embrace as she sobbed into his shoulder.

After a few minutes, she lifted her head. Owen was gazing behind her, not focussing on anything in particular.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get you back."

He looked at her then, and she felt confusion flow through her. He was regarding her with puzzlement.

"You know," she explained, "back to the Hub. The others will be delighted to see you."

He had begun glancing round the room again. She pulled him to his feet and towards the door. Andy was still watching her from the hatch.

"What are you doing?" He asked. "You can't take him on your own – he's dangerous."

"I'll be fine, Andy. He won't hurt me. We're old friends."

She squeezed Owen's hand, but he didn't respond. His eyes were now fixed on the floor. She led him through the door and started towards the exit.

Jack threw down the report he was reading in disgust. He was sat in the conference room, amid a sea of paperwork. Ianto was sat to his right and Mickey was across from him. They had both ignored his actions. He sighed loudly. Mickey and Ianto shared a glance, both rolling their eyes.

"Something wrong, Sir?" Ianto queried.

"Yes, there is and stop calling me Sir. None of this makes any sense. We've been looking at this data for weeks and we have no clue what it means. Why on Earth didn't Tosh leave an instruction manual?"

"Because she didn't get a chance to finish the software," Ianto responded softly.

"There's a pattern here somewhere." Mickey was holding two pieces of paper and staring intently at them. "We're just looking at it wrong."

"How are we supposed to look at it?" Asked Jack, exasperated. "Somewhere in here, there is the reason for all the strange Rift activity that has been occurring recently. We have to find it. The twenty-first century is where everything changes and..."

"...we've got to be ready for it," chorused Ianto and Mickey.

Jack looked at them in distain. "No. I was going to say that this could be the start of it." He huffed again. "Anyway, where's Gwen?"

"She was here late last night and," Ianto was interrupted by the siren indicating the Hub door opening. He smiled at Jack, "that'll be her now, Sir."

Jack poked his tongue out at him, "You think? C'mon. My eyes are going funny. Maybe Gwen's bought coffee as she's late. Oh, and some of those Danish things."

They all walked out of the room and toward the rail to watch Gwen's appearance. Down below, Martha had glanced round to wave a greeting as Gwen arrived. She stopped mid-wave and gasp audibly.

"Oh my god," she said raising a hand to her mouth.

On the gallery, the others twisted round to see what she had seen. Gwen was coming through the door, leading another person by the hand. All the while, she was talking gently, in a reassuring manner.

"Gwen!" Jack called. "What's going on?"

"It's..." she started.

"...Owen," Martha finished. She rushed towards him.

"Owen," breathed Ianto.

"Owen?" Mickey sounded puzzled.

Owen had pulled out of Gwen's grip and was backing away from Martha's advances. He had his hands over his ears and he was shaking his head. Jack hurried down the steps to him. Once he reached him he grabbed his hands, and went to pull him into an embrace. Owen immediately curled his lips up in a snarl. He yanked a hand free and swiped it in Jack's direction. Jack dropped his other hand as he leaned back to avoid the strike.

"Owen? What's wrong?"

Gwen rushed to them. "Jack, be careful, he's really disorientated."

Owen was edging backwards, toward the wall, his hands at his head again. He was whimpering and breathing in choking gasps.

"Oh crap," said Martha. "He's going to hyperventilate." She looked towards Owen and took small steps in his direction, holding her arms out in front of her. "Come on Owen, just relax OK, just breathe slowly."

Owen wasn't paying any attention to her. His eyes locked briefly with Jack's who was suddenly filled with a feeling of terror, then they slowly rolled back into his head, as he crumpled to the ground.