First: Thank you all for the fantastic reviews, non-spoiler insights and inspiration to go on with this as planned. You guys have really helped the Muses do their work the past week or so on this one.


IMPORTANT NOTE:

SPOILERS FOR Children of Earth FROM HERE ON OUT
I won't be jumping any further ahead than it airs here in the States…….

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Ok, first impressions of CoE are that it's very X-Files-ish. So far, however, I am not feeling disappointed in CoE or RTD, although I can see where it's likely to get even more tense as we go and it may not have a happy fluffy ending. Sometimes drama isn't about happy fluffy endings. All I can predict about my own ending, is that if you've been reading my work, you know that Jack and Ianto have 14 years together and that Bobby survives for 6 as team medic.

Secondly, I'm *not*going to rewrite each episode play by play, it isn't necessary, especially with the stuff going on behind Tochwood's collective backsides. I'm going to handle it like I did Journey's End, it's just there's more to tackle.

The only other Big Thing I'd like to make a special note of going in is that I've gathered the impression that (in cannon) CoE picks up with the Torchwood team shortly after the events of Journey's End, which seems to come on the heels of Exit Wounds. Obviously my timeline runs very differently. The team have had close to a year and a half since they lost Tosh and Owen and have filled out their ranks rather nicely.

For Jack and Ianto it's been two and a half years since the events of Exit Wounds, because of the year they spent in the future having Seren. And obviously, they've got a pretty established relationship already… although it was delightful watching Ianto bumbling through it in the official cannon version of it, especially trying to explain it to that sister of his… no wonder he doesn't visit often!

Ok, deep breath… here goes:


Chapter Eight:
Day One, Part One

"Evil is done without effort, naturally, it is the working of fate; good is always the product of an art."

Charles Baudelaire


Jack laid his hand across his son's forehead, acutely aware of both his mother's and his partner's presence. They were hovering in the doorway of Jason's room, glaring at him. Well, maybe Ianto was the only one glaring. Ella was more… no, he realized as he glanced over his shoulder, his mother was glaring too. Terrific. He would have a better chance taking on a pack of angry Weevils singlehandedly than he had of retaining any semblance of domestic tranquillity this morning. That left only one tactic left that he could see.

He eyed his son thoughtfully… pleadingly. "You don't seem to have a fever, buddy," he said in a soft tone. "Are you sure you're really sick today?"

"Tummy hurts," he moaned pitifully. Too pitifully.

Jack sighed. He was doomed. Either his mother or his partner was going to end up angry with him. Maybe he'd head into the Hub early… great, now I'm turning into a coward, and over what? he wondered silently.

Jason had feigned illness at least twice a week during his first few months of school in Cardiff, much to Ianto's ire. Ella encouraged her grandson to stay home anytime he wanted to, saying openly that schools in this century were rubbish. The Captain couldn't argue the fact that compared to their home century, the education system was lacking, but this was where they lived, when they lived. His mother had been the one to bring Jason to this century, she'd known it would be a one way trip. She should have thought things through… yet he was infinitely glad that she hadn't, glad he had her, his son. Even if at the moment he felt doomed to angering either her or his partner—he wasn't even sure which was the lesser of two evils.

So far this year Jason hadn't missed a day of school. Granted the year was only just starting, but even towards the end of last year, when he finally started making friends, feeling as if he belonged, fitting in despite having one of the more unusual households in the neighbourhood, things had turned around. His grades improved, calls from the headmaster's office came with less and less frequency. Ianto had even discovered that there were two other families in Jason's school with same-gender parents. Most of the more conventional families were all right with them, too, it seemed, though Jack knew his son was still well aware of what homophobia was—he didn't have to look any further than Ianto's brother Cade to see that. He also knew it hurt his son to have to pretend that his other father wasn't his real, biological father because two men couldn't have a child together in this century.

Ianto crossed the distance between them and laid his palm gently over Jason's forehead, felt his cheeks with the back of his hand. He gave over a thoughtful look. "He feels a little warm to me, Cariad," he surprised his partner by saying (shocked him, was more like it).

Jack eyed him wearily. Jason wasn't running a fever.

"Why don't we keep him home today?" the younger man suggested. There was nothing in his tone to suggest he'd suddenly gone daft.

"Are you sure?" the Captain asked anyway, wondering what was with the sudden change of attitude, especially now with Seren in their lives. Their five month old daughter had kept the entire house up again last night, but with four of the team on leave, he had to be in to work today, he couldn't stay home to help.

"We'll be fine, Jack. Honestly." His Welshman gave him a look that begged the question: 'do you really think I can't handle one sick child and a baby?'

He gave in. Of course Ianto could handle it. He could handle Weevils, Daleks... me, Jack thought a little ruefully as his gaze took in the younger man. A familiar warmth swept through him. His husband retuned the look, smiled that smile of his, the one that told him that no matter how rough things got, they would always be all right.

Besides, if he really needed help, Ella would be around. She and Ianto seemed to have come to some sort of truce the last year. Jack didn't know when it had happened or how, but it had and he was grateful.

"I'll phone the school and let them know Jason won't be in," he offered at last, giving his son's hair a light tussle before straightening up; Jason smiled at him. He was sure he wasn't sick...however… He turned to his partner. "And I can go in late today," he told him. The least he could do was get his off to a good start. Mickey and Sara could handle anything that came through the Rift and Gwen was there to man the Hub.

Ianto didn't argue. "All right. But you get breakfast while I call the school," he told him. If Jack was going to stay home an extra couple of hours, he was going to take full advantage of it. "After I've put on another pot of coffee," he added to the pleading look in his Captain's blue eyes. He leant in and pressed his lips gently to the older man's mouth, savouring the sweetness, the softness of his kiss… and right on cue, Seren started wailing the next room. "No rest for the wicked," he grinned into a second soft kiss before attending to the needs of their daughter.

Ella stopped him. "I'll get her," she said, "you get the coffee." It had been decided early on that she was not to go near the coffee pot except in cases of dire emergency. Apparently hers was worse than Jack's…


The shrill bleeping of a monitor roused Mickey Smith from what had been fitful slumber on the sofa behind his station. He rubbed a hand over his face and glugged down the dregs of the cold coffee from his mug, trying to dispel the last of sleep. According to his watch, it was 7:34 am. He'd barely gotten in two hours… thank God, Captain Cheesecake was due in any minute. He needed to go home and get some real sleep.

Groggily he hauled himself up to see what was setting off the alarm…

"Shite," he cursed when he saw the readout. Abby's new program had just picked up alien life signs near by. He rang Sara's mobile as he tapped at the keyboard to get a fix on the alien and some idea of what it might be. The last thing he wanted to deal with first thing in the morning was a surprise…now, if Sara would just answer her phone…

"Hello?" she finally picked up.

"Took you long enough," he said by way of greeting, rolling his chair from one computer monitor to another, to bring up the CCTV cameras in the area around the 'disturbance'—although really it wasn't much of a disturbance at all, just some old guy talking to himself in his front garden.

"I was in the shower," the American informed him.

"Still wrapped in a towel, then?" he asked, his cheeky grin audible even over the phone.

She ignored the question. "What's going on?" she wanted to know.

"Alien life form… hang on..." he rolled the chair back at the first computer and checked the read out again. "Looks like a parasite—basic hitchhiker. I'm sending you the GPS coordinates. See you there in ten." He didn't wait for her answer before hanging up. With any luck they'd have the alien bagged and tagged before their Fearless Leader even came strolling in to work.

Heh, and he thinks we can't handle it without him, Mickey grinned as he grabbed up his gear and headed out the rolling cog door, just as Myfanwy was gliding in from her nightly roaming. One of these days somebody was going to notice… either that or they already have and just chose to ignore what they don't want to acknowledge, he smirked.

Ten minutes later he arrived on the scene, just as a couple of paramedics were loading the old guy onto a stretcher. He sidled up to his American co-worker. "What gives?" he asked her.

"Dunno. Looks like our vic is on his way to St Helen's."

"Guess we'd better follow."

She nodded. "But do you think you could try not causing a panic this time?" she asked. Yelling 'Torchwood' in a crowded room was just as bad (if not worse) than yelling 'fire.'

He gave her a look. "Fine then, we can say we're his neighbours or something. Come on, I'll drive."


Wendy woke with a start, her heart pounding in her ears… strange smells… strange sounds… inky shadows, shades of grey and black… her eyes adjusted quickly to the darkened room... a familiar scent. A familiar sound. Familiar warmth next to her.

Bobby.

He was there, sleeping soundly. Peacefully.

She curled herself around him and closed her eyes again, willing her breathing to slow to normal, willing herself to relax enough to collect her scattered wits. Amber and James Wilson… their house… New Jersey… that explained the strange smells, the strange sounds, the sensation of waking up in a strange bed.

It didn't explain her heart pounding in her ears or the feeling of panic that she couldn't shake, even after she realized where she was, why she was there.

The clock on the nightstand read 3:03, am.

She slipped out of the bed and wrapped her shawl around her bare shoulders… she crept quietly down the hall…down the steps. Nothing seemed amiss. The house was quiet. Dark. It should be peaceful. But something was wrong. She checked every room looking for the something… looking for anything to explain the feeling of disquiet. Nothing seemed of place in the house.

The clock in the kitchen read 3:24.

Her heart beat faster, her breath quickened… fight or flight… but there was nothing to fight, nothing from which to flee. It didn't make any sense! The walls were closing in on her…outside… she needed to be outside.

Silently she stole out into the night, leaving the front door just slightly ajar behind her, a safe place she could retreat to if necessary.

No place will be safe, said the tiny voice in the back of her mind, the voice of her instinct, her fear.

Country air filled her nostrils… the darkness was still. Something churned underneath the stillness… the calm was a façade… something was coming… something awful.


Ianto was putting the last of the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher—Jack had gone upstairs to check on Jason on more time before heading into the Hub—when the phone rang.

"I've got it," the young Welshman said to his mother in law; she was starting in on the crossword puzzle in the morning paper. Absurdly normal, he thought about his life. In that very moment the whole of it was absolutely, absurdly normal. He picked up the receiver from the phone hanging on the kitchen wall. "Hello?"

"Yan—"

"Nerys?" He only barely recognized his sister's voice on the other end of the line. "What is it, what's the matter, JP—" if her ex husband…

"It's not JP, Yan, it's Remy. Something…something happened to her. She's…she's not…she just… she's gone catatonic!" she sobbed.

"Nerys, calm down. What happened?"

Ella looked questioningly up at him, but all he could do was shrug.

"I can't calm down! My daughter's—she's just frozen!" Nerys told him, her voice cracking, more tears coming.

Jack came into the room and gave him the same questioning look Ella just had, but he still didn't have any answers, any information that bore repeating. Nerys wasn't making any sense.

"Ner, what happened, what do you mean 'frozen'?"

"I mean bloody catatonic, Ianto!" she howled. "She's not moving, she won't speak, she's not reacting to anything! It's like… like somebody just flipped a switch and turned her off! But her eyes are still open and…and she's still breathing, she's just sitting there, like she's frozen in time!"

Jack took the phone from his partner's hand, having heard bits and pieces of the other side of the conversation. "Nerys, what's going on?" he asked, using his Captain's voice, the one that usually got people to snap out of whatever it was they were in and pay attention. Nerys however, wasn't snapping out of anything.

"I don't know!" she cried.

"Ok. Just stay calm. I'm on my way over."

"Jack—" Ianto began.

Right. They were on their way over.


Gwen's attention was drawn from her transaction at the ATM by the sound of a woman arguing with her child. The boy seemed to have just… stopped. She shook her head; he was probably just acting out. Kids did that… gawd, is what I've got to look forward to in ten years? she wondered. RJ was already a handful and a half… Almost involuntarily her hand went to her mid-section. She smiled.

A little girl. According to Bobby's scan, they were going to have a little girl. Her smile warmed, broadening further at the thought of having a daughter. Not that she didn't adore her son to bits, but she was already seeing so much of his father in him. A daughter would be somebody she could have girls' days out with someday… somebody who would cry on her shoulder… she had visions of teenaged dances, going off to university… a wedding dress… just as long as there aren't any uninvited aliens at your wedding, Sweetheart, she thought in her daughter's direction.

It was little wonder Rhys thought they needed a bigger place… a proper house. Even if they stopped after two children, they needed more than the two-bedroom flat they'd moved into last year. It was just the prospect of moving again that made her groan. They still had boxes they hadn't unpacked from the first move…

Across the street, another parent was having an argument with another child. That child wasn't moving, either, wasn't even seeming to see or hear her mother, her face, her expression, was completely blank... Gwen frowned. It had to be more than just a coincidence.