Title: On the opportunity of no interfering status
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Characters /pairings: The twelve alternate versions of Captain Jack from the 12 Jacks Case: Jay, Jill, John, Jethro, Jeff, Jeffrey, Joey, Jed, Jo, Jared, Jake and Jinn.
Prompt: Historical, Medieval
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: not that I can think of.
Summary: For some reasons you can eventually find here twelve versions of Jack are stranded in the past of a thirteenth dimension which is not ours or Jack's as they believe it. They get involved in what ought to be the first Crusade.
Author's note: written for au_bingo as a standalone, but there will be sequels and there is already a prequel: Timey-Wimey and some more.
Word count: more or less.
Beta: czarina_kitty
Caerdydd, Year of our Lord 1148.
The word had been spread some weeks earlier; the monks from Saint Barnaby were hiding angels among their community.
Sir Aneirin was a pious man but not the kind of man to be content with rumours. However, just in case, he insisted that those famous angels accompany his son Kewez in his quest for redemption. It was, of course, all about redemption. Kewez' twenties was in his late twenties but he was the youngest son of Sir Aneirin and also the most turbulent.
"I'm not sure where the problem lies," Sir Aneirin said. "You're angels, soldiers of our beloved Lord and you claim freeing Jerusalem is not your battle? So what is it, then? What can possibly be more important than that?"
Jay turned to Jill and John, there was no way for him to answer this question. From the start, he had not been comfortable with the idea of pretending to be an angel and talking wasn't his strong point- he was there as the medieval expert.
"The problem, my Lord, lies in the fact that we shouldn't be here," Jill stoically tried to explain. "We were awoken too early. Our battle will be the last one."
A worried murmur ran through the assembly gathered in the large reception room.
"That said, it won't be for centuries," John was quick to add. "As my brother said we've been awoken way too early."
"Maybe it is, in fact, the reason you've been awoken," Father Costello noted suspiciously. The new priest sent by Rome didn't believe them to be what they claimed to be, but, even if they were no angels, they'd already proven that they were fearsome warriors. "I cannot believe that our Lord would rebuke his soldiers for wanting to liberate the Holy Sepulchre."
"Well, why not?" Jay cut in before Jill had time to get into any further argument. * What will you say? That we know God's will? That we are in direct line with God? Do you really want to go down that road? There's a guy who already tried that and he'd ended up on a cross, I'll remind you.*
*We can't get involved in that crusade, either,* Jill replied.
* No, but nothing prevents us from pretending otherwise. We've long crossed that line,* Jay argued. *We won't get the last word here. They have strong views on what they believe to be their duty and, by extension, ours. Trust me, you don't want to have to prove yourself in front of them.*
"That seems more sensible on an angel's part," Sir Aneirin stated, as if giving voice to Jay's concerns. "I am pleased our Lord finally found the way to show you the right path. Now, as things are settled, make sure you are ready to leave with the new moon."
After being dismissed by Sir Aneirin the three counterparts walked back to the Abbey. Since their arrival, they'd always been careful never to be seen as group of more than three when they were outside the abbey.
Indeed, triplets, even though rare in these days, could still happen. Of course, they more often than not, didn't grow old, or at least rarely all three of them, but it was still plausible.
In Regards to the monks, there was no real problem. It was they who had found them while digging the ground to build a cellar under their kitchen, who had taken them out of the soil where they had been buried by the Master. Since the beginning, the monks knew them to be immortals. That was how and why John had come with the brilliant idea of telling them they were angels hidden there for the Final Battle. The monks weren't a problem; they were even allies as well as hosts.
Of course, twelve identical men were somewhat problematic to explain. Even more so after one of them had returned to life in front of stunned villagers. And to top it all off, after being torn to pieces in an indisputable way by furious beasts escaped straight from hell.
In short, back in early spring when three Hoix that had been spat from the rift attacked a small group of peasants peacefully collecting firewood near the Abbey, they'd all felt compelled to intervene and had all run as one man to help.
Incidentally, that was the day Jay proved that the damsel was perfectly capable, if necessary, of breaking a Hoix's neck with his bare hands. Even if he couldn't bear to face a three pixels sized spider.
If that hadn't failed to impress the monks and his alter egos, John coming back to life in the arms of an old peasant had, indeed, impressed the villagers who had also come in number to the rescue.
Of course, synthesizing retcon in a medieval environment was absolutely not an option.
...
On their way they found Jared, Jeff, and Jinn, who were collecting herbs not far from the glade where the Hoix attack had happened.
"I thought we were not supposed to get involved in any major events," Jinn said after Jill had summed up their talk with the local lord. "I would have thought that a crusade, judging by what some of you told me, would be important enough to be labelled a major historical event. That said, I am by no means the expert. I admit it. Actually to be honest, there has never been anything quite like your crusades in my 'verse."
"This is exactly my point," Jay replied. "We don't know for sure what is supposed to happen or not happen in this dimension. We can't say if we have a part to play or not: our presence in this world could just as easily be a determinant, a constant ..."
"I'd say he's got a point. We did assumed we ought to stand aside and not intervene for fear of jostling, even jeopardizing the future with which we have an appointment, but it is tantamount to denying all that we have shared with the Doctor and Rose," Jeff noted.
"Are you mad?" Jill exclaimed. The idea of being this kind of accomplice in a slaughter shocked the hell out of him. "There is absolutely no way I'll play God's little soldier among these fanatics."
"They are confident they are within their rights. In their eyes this is a holy war and nothing is more important to them. I don't think we can get out of this mess any way other than quietly taking the first way out," John commented. "It's a long trip from here to Jerusalem and we need to get the people here to forget about us..."
"And whose fault is that?" Jared bantered. "I never thought I'd come to this, but I think I'll miss the Abbey."
"On the other hand, do you know what all this reminds me of?" Jeff said. "Back in my time at the Time Agency, do you know what we used to tell newbies to scare them? In my dimension that's it?"
"That when you mess with the course of time, you're putting yourself at risk of attracting some Time Lord's attention?" Jinn guessed. "Our problem here is that we're not in our dimension and by provoking the Doctor to intervene, we could very well jeopardize Jack's future."
"Or not at all," Jeff replied. "It would depend on which version of the Doctor intervenes. In fact, it could be our way out ..."
"Yes, but you'd better keep in mind the Doc is not alone, or at least he has not always been the last of Time Lords. And if you go there, we could just as well attract the Master," Jay commented. "I don't think we should purposely cause a paradox or a disturbance in the flow of time, I just wanted to emphasize that we do not know if we have a role to play or not in the history of this dimension."
"So, what do you suggest then?"
"I'd say we should go with Kewez and his men," Jay replied. "That said, we keep a low profile, and see if we can found a way out along the road."
...
Sir Aneirin had called upon all the local lords to contribute, and four days before departure, they were given horses: twelve magnificent beasts. To complete their crusader's equipment, heavy swords accompanied by unimpressive shields, as well as coats of mail were delivered by the village blacksmith.
"No. No way I put that thing on," John protested. "It's heavy and not really befitting."
"And moreover," Jay added. "All that metal did not always worked in favour of its owners during the Crusades, at least in my verse."
"Really?" Jinn asked.
"Believe me, all this steel stuff under a blazing sun is uncomfortable and even fatal," Jay replied.
"And one better not fall overboard while wearing that either," John added.
"Because you had the opportunity to wear a coat of mail, did you?" Jill asked somewhat surprised.
"Yep . During a shoot, when I was on the set."
"I might have guessed."
...
For its part, the scriptorium was the scene of much heated debate that played into the sex group sessions. The subject of these interminable discussions revolved mainly around what they could or should do during the trip, and especially around what they should not do.
"For those people we are angels, we're God's representatives. That should give us some credibility, right?" Jinn had asked.
"Yes, in theory it should," Jill replied. "And if we make good use of it, we could perhaps limit some collateral damage on the road. We must keep in mind that a marching army, composed of so many men, did as much harm to local people encountered en route as to their final destination. Claiming board and lodging, or even, the droit de seigneur, and all in God's name."
"We won't stop that from happening," Jay commented. "Men in pack are worse than wolves, but at least we can try to soften it. We'll be happy just to staying out of trouble."
"That's why we must make an example of our own behaviour," Jill replied.
"Who are you kidding?" Jay retorted.
"Right, let's face it; we aren't saints. I don't think we would make it, even if our lives depended on it."
"I'm not talking about flirting or get laid at any cost," Jill said. "You'll be surrounded by men who consider that they are owed everything and that any disagreement is a breach in their quest."
"Men in pack-"
"Don't you have anything else to say, Jay?" Jeff asked, cutting his counterpart short. "We're all former Time Agents, we all are historians and archaeologists, and we all have, at least once, followed an army on campaign."
"And we know perfectly well it's not nice," Jo added.
"You know my point of view," Jay commented, as he left the scriptorium. He needed some fresh air, along with a little silence. For a time, remaining in the immediate vicinity of the Abbey, he walked aimlessly and then move back into the barn for the night. He was in no mood for going back arguing with the others, let alone find himself in an orgy. He needed a little real rest and the barn, empty as it was this early in summer, was still a very welcoming place.
"Not a spider to be seen," John greeted him. "I made sure of it."
"How long have you been waiting for me?"
"Not long," John replied soothing the quilt he'd lain on the straw. "Come over here."
Jay settled by John's side. John was nice, sometimes a bit cheeky, but he was his favourite alter ego. With him Jay felt fine. The others made fun of him, they called him the damsel, not so much because of his spider phobia but because they saw him as a bit unpolished and raw. The truth was that while playing assassin on Torchwood's behalf he'd adopted some frustrating ways. John, seemed to see beyond that, maybe because he had let him see a bit more of himself. But the fact was he liked John.
"That second crusade, the one you said was the worst, you've been caught in it, right?" John asked.
Jay remained silent and turned on his side: he had had enough. John got the message and instead of pushing, gently invited him to cuddle, which was definitely better.
They stayed a while nested against each other, each taking solace in the presence of the other. It was something Jay enjoyed a lot with John; his tenderness, his ability to wait until the other was in harmony with him. He could wait until Jay would make him understand he wanted more. Then and only then, he start with butterfly kisses at the hollow of Jay's neck. It felt so good to be cared for that much, it was something Jay had been longing for without even knowing it.
"What is it that frightens you so deeply, that you don't even want to talk about it?" John whispered in his neck as they settled in for after sex cuddling. "Will you tell me?"
"I'm afraid this entire angel thingy will explode in our faces, I'm terrified we'll become puppets in fanatic's hands that all." Jay replied.
"Yes I can see that," John replied spooning tighter around him. "But as I already pointed out, it's a long trip to Palestine; we'll found a way out before we get there."
"I envy your optimism."
"That's just a choice of how you see things, you know..." John replied. "It's a bias, I chose a long time ago: make haste to laugh at everything before you have to cry."
"Isn't it from Beaumarchais?"
"Variation on the tune, but I must confess: I'm a fan."
"A Beaumarchais' fan?"
"Yep! Definitely." John grinned. "A great guy in his way."
"Will you show me?"
"What?"
"How to laugh at everything..."
"I'm not sure what awaits us is the most appropriate context," John replied with a last gentle kiss deposited in his hair. "But what the hell?"