DAY 151
Bottom Feeder
Martha
"Three-week old embryo of human origin detected," Helix said, Jack holding the handset in front of Martha's belly.
"What do you mean 'of human origin'? Not an actual human?" Martha questioned, feeling her heart skip a beat when she heard that ambiguity.
"Data inconclusive."
"How can the data be inconclusive?" Mickey asked, growing very worried.
"Embryo displays traces of Artron mutation and a genome abnormality consistent with the contraction of Corrupt Strain 25EFX4," Helix said smoothly.
"My baby displays traces of what!?" Mickey demanded.
"Artron energy is the background radiation you get from time travelling," Jack said quickly because Mickey was growing very angry, while Martha was trying to work out where she had heard the phrase 'Corrupted Strain 25EFX4' before.
"But mutation-"
"Probably means exposure to the time vortex at the time of conception and development has, you know… this kid is gonna be a Time Lord," Jack said, "But hey, at least it's not a Nostrovite baby and nobody's gonna come and rip it out of you."
"Small victories," Ianto commented.
"And 'corrupted strain'?" Mickey began, "What's that all about? What's this corrupted strain?"
"It's what Oswin calls the Manifest virus," Martha realised, "It's her scientific name for it, for the version that we have. So we were right. It's going to be a Manifest and a Time Lord."
"At least Time Lords are resilient creatures," Jack said, "I'd bet it might be a pretty smooth pregnancy."
"Yeah, unless it inherits the power to set things on fire with its mind, like me," Martha said.
"Well, okay, yeah," Jack admitted, "But don't you need an adrenaline boost to kick-start the genetics? So the abilities might not appear properly until maybe years after it's born. And they're potentially passive abilities, like the eye colour changing or the breathing underwater."
"Or random teleportation spasms," Martha said.
"Helix, is there any way to tell whether the symptoms of Corrupted Strain 25EFX4 have begun to show themselves?" Jack asked.
"Negative, but the embryo is not yet at a stage of development advanced enough for the neurological pathways enabling Corrupted Strain 25EFX4 to manifest to be formed," he explained, "By my best estimate there will be no possibility for advanced abilities to develop until six months of foetal growth minimum."
"And at six months I'm sure we can get an advanced enough incubator from the future that would enable the baby to survive if it does have the random teleportation spasms," Jack said, "And it might be enough time for Oswin to develop a new inhibitor to stop the powers, at least until after it's born. Look, we're on the most advanced spaceship in the universe, and you're a doctor, this is gonna be the most well-protected and looked-after foetus in history. I promise you, none of us here are gonna let anything happen to this baby, especially not three Doctors, Jenny and Rose."
"Or me," Mickey said, "It's mine too."
"Well yeah but, you can't bend time and space to your will."
Five Years Ago
Of all the sewers in the world, if she had to pick one she didn't want to go into, it was probably Cardiff. Mostly because in terms of human waste, all sewers were more or less on the same level, the thing about Cardiff's sewers was that they had a very nasty Weevil infestation, and she'd seen first-hand evidence of the state Weevils left people in when they were done attacking.
"Okay," Jack began, sounding muffled in his gas mask. They were all wearing gas masks, and full white hazmat suits, though Martha doubted they were going to stay white for very long. "Gwen and I will go this way, you two go that way." Ianto was topside in the SUV working comms and trying to find them a map of the sewage system to follow as they waded around knee-deep sludge looking for the arse-eating worm. "Remember what I said, it's a Ledan Bullpillar," he had finally worked out what the species was after seeing its behaviour, "Burrows in through your rear, eats the liver, comes out through your mouth and then back into the drains, killing its prey in the process. Which means we've all gotta take extra care to watch our sixes. And each other's sixes."
"You can keep your eyes well away from my six, I'm married, mate," Gwen jibed.
"You should be taking it as a compliment."
"Cheeky!" and then they both laughed, until Jack turned serious again and spoke directly to Mickey and Martha.
"Remember to keep your comms open at all times in case Ianto gets a bead on it from above, and don't take your hands off your traps. Move out." They went their separate ways. The traps he was talking about were nets probably based on pest-control devices, but these ones were made of very advanced and unbreakable chainmail. So they had those, they had stun guns, and they had headlamps; fully equipped for their putrid attempt at spelunking. It really was disgusting down there, and even with the industrial gas masks she was still getting plenty of the smell of raw sewage inflicted upon her. It was also both a blessing and a curse that the headlamps were so powerful; on the one hand, they would be very good for navigation and for spotting the parasitic critter they were hunting, but on the other, they illuminated some things Martha didn't think should ever be illuminated. Did anyone really want to see a river of floating turds and ballooning, water-filled condoms? Probably not. But that was what was down there.
Then she heard the noise of Gwen and Jack's comms shutting off, after some brief chatter where Jack gave out some very personal details about Ianto, though Ianto did not seem particularly bothered all in all.
"Does that mean something's wrong?" Mickey asked, startled. He had been listening, but only just; she knew because she saw him roll his eyes at certain choice moments during Jack's monologue about Ianto's bum, which was something along the lines of 'Ianto has to stay safe from the Bullpillar in the SUV – the only thing ruining his anus is me.' Because of that, Martha was very grateful that the line had gone dead.
"No," Martha answered him, growing annoyed, "It means they're talking about us." Just to be safe, she then touched her own comm device in her ear, and made sure it was on the setting where the microphone was muted. Mickey tried to follow suit, but fumbled, and dropped his earpiece in the poo pond they were wading through. "Well done," Martha said.
"Oops," he was disheartened, "You'd better speak for both of us, then."
"Won't be much speaking to them; we can't hear them and they can't hear us."
"Are you sure they were talking about us? Maybe the signal died?"
"I'm definitely sure," Martha said.
"But… us how? What do you mean?" She thought he knew exactly what she meant, and what Jack and Gwen were talking about (probably with Ianto as well), but he wanted to try and pry some confession out of her. The last few weeks had been rather whirlwind, though, and she wasn't sure she had anything to confess. She hadn't had a chance to think much of anything through, really. Moving to a new house, adjusting to a new job, putting up with frequent nightmares, dissecting lots of dead bodies – it kept a girl occupied.
"Mickey, we're not children," she said, "We don't have to have any of this he-said she-said rumour-spreading nonsense with Jack sticking his nose in. We can just be honest."
"Go on then. Be honest," he pressed.
"Well, I… think you should be honest first."
"Fine, I care about you a lot, more than in a friendly way." Martha's foot snagged on something deep below the surface of the oily, mucky fluid, and she stumbled but managed to steady herself. "What was it?"
"I thought I felt something," she said. They both stayed very still and listened. Then she frowned (though he couldn't tell what her expression was properly with the gas masks on) and looked at him, "Wait, more than a friend?"
"Look out!"
It had not been something completely random she had tripped on, it turned out. Something had brushed past her leg, and now whatever it was had launched itself at her from behind, only to be grabbed out of the air by Mickey, who dropped his trap in the refuse in the process. Martha shrieked at the sight of it, that pearly worm but now brown and sticky with sewage coating its skin.
"Do something!" Mickey shouted, but just as she raised her chainmail-pole to try and catch it, Mickey's grip failed and the thing writhed around enough to get free. It splashed down into the gunk and left them splattered with brown stuff, and they saw ripples in the water as is slithered away, perhaps sensing the danger. In the distance, Martha saw one of the condoms burst, but was convinced it had disappeared away from them. She hastily turned her earpiece back on.
"We just saw it," she said, "Mickey dropped his earpiece in the sewage, and his pole, but it jumped out at us."
"Did you catch it?" Jack asked in a crackly voice; unsurprisingly, the drainage system didn't have very good Bluetooth signal.
"No."
"How come?"
"It startled me!"
"It startled you!?"
"I was distracted. And it's covered in poo, it's very slippery, Mickey dropped it and we saw it sort of, swim away. To the west, I think."
"That's where we are," Gwen said.
"Probably a good thing it's coming to us, at least we know how to do our jobs," Jack remarked, and the line went down again, so Martha switched hers off, too, and rolled her eyes at Mickey when he was looking.
"Can you believe him? Lecturing me."
"Probably gets off on it," Mickey said.
"I'll say. Just because the last time I had anything to do with Torchwood I was technically his boss, now he thinks he can order me around like I'm a rookie…"
"He's probably worried," Mickey said.
"Worried?"
"Well, you know, you've been off. The nightmares, and stuff. I don't know if I would have paired us off together."
"Oh, thanks. It's not like we're inexperienced. And I told you why they sent us off together."
"No, you didn't."
"Then you definitely know. Jack's trying to play match-maker. You know what he's like."
"Are you sure? I wouldn't think he'd like his staff getting, um, well, uh… well, with each other, anything like… you know, maybe, unprofessional."
"What a way with words."
"Shut up."
"He's shagging one of his subordinates on the regular," Martha said.
"Right, so, erm, what are you saying?"
"…I said that Jack's shagging one of his-"
"No, about us."
"Is there an us?"
"I… you're doing this on purpose, aren't you!? Put me out of my misery." She laughed. Even though they were in an urban swamp chasing an anal-thrashing alien worm parasite responsible for the death of Elvis Presley, Mickey still made her laugh.
"What do you want me to say? It's four in the morning, you know, and we're in a sewer," Martha said, "Look, we both know what we're getting at, don't we? So why don't we just leave it until we're out of this sewer, because it's not the best place for a conversation."
"No, come on. Talk now. There's nothing else do to."
"Apart from our jobs."
"The Bullpillar will find us when it's ready."
"Okay, okay, there's a mutual attraction here, right? You're sweet, and caring, and I think Rose Tyler made a huge bloody mistake letting you go, but Mickey – we're in a sewer. What if we have a thing, and it lasts? What if we were to have a kid one day-"
"Getting a bit ahead of yourself-"
"Listen, what if we were, and they're like – 'how did you and dad start going out?' and I say it was in a sewer. That's a rubbish memory. I want a good memory that doesn't involve anything weird and alien and is just… just normal. And when I don't stink of shit, and I've had a shower. So I promise we'll talk about this when we're in an environment that's a little less turd-infested. Alright?"
"…Alright," he relented, and she heard a smile in his voice. She was smiling, too, as best she could under the strength of the gas mask. "Promise?"
"Yes, promise, now can we find the poo worm so that we can leave?"
"Yeah, um, do you think I should try and fish my pole out of this mess, or can I just leave it…?"
"I reckon leave it," Martha said, "As a doctor, I'd advise as little contact with old human biological waste as possible. You could get very sick from just breathing this in." They moved on from the spot of initial Bullpillar-attack together, with Martha thinking more extensively about if she had overstepped by bringing up fictional future children. But you always had to think ahead, and she was serious about wanting to perhaps create a good memory. After all, what if she had actually married Tom? What if they had reproduced? She would be living a lie. She didn't want to live a lie, and more than that, she wanted the truth to be as glamourous as it had potential to be. And by 'glamourous', she just met not in a Welsh sewer.
"So you're the first line of defence now between us getting our livers eaten or not," Mickey said.
"Don't worry, I'll protect you."
"Glad to hear it." Truthfully, she wasn't sure how much better she would be with the trap-nets than he was, since neither of them had actually had any practice in using them, but maybe they would get lucky and the thing would attack Jack first, and then gorge itself on his infinitely re-growing livers for long enough that they could capture it very easily. An unending buffet was rather a good bit of bait, Martha thought, and if the worm had given up with them it had almost certainly gone to track down Jack and Gwen instead. "So if I was gonna ask you out in a really romantic and memorable way you'd love to tell our imaginary future kids about, how would you say I should do it?"
"I think that's cheating."
"I wouldn't cheat on anyone."
"That's not what I meant and you know it. But really, if you could stop trying to flirt with me so that I could turn the comms back on, that'd be great," Martha said, and he did, so after a pause she turned the line back on to discover that Jack and Gwen were shouting very loudly for them to help.
"What are the two of you even doing!?" Gwen was yelling, "There's a bloody worm over here trying to burrow through Jack's pants!"
"Not for the first time," Mickey said, "We'll be right there."
"You want to take the next right and then the second left," Ianto spoke, "I'm sure you'll hear the splashing when you get close enough."
It didn't take them longer than a minute or two to go galumphing through the dark sludge enough that they found the grotesque sight they had been directed towards. It appeared that Jack may have suffered quite severely at the hands of the worm, being as his dead body was floating face down in god only knew what. It was lucky he could never die, because any other human being submerging themselves in that much raw sewage was almost certainly going to. At best they would be spending a few months in hospital getting tetanus shots and antibiotics pumped into their bloodstream on a drip.
"Why the bloody hell did you two turn off your earpiece!?" Gwen demanded.
"You started it!" Martha shouted back at her.
"Well help me catch the bastard, bloody thing bit through the pole of my net-thing, and Jack's dropped his," she said, "It's disgusting down here, so the sooner the better." So Martha had the only trap left.
The Bullpillar made itself known when she saw it lashing around in the water, still writhing within Jack's freshly-deceased body, perhaps still trying to consume the liver.
"Alright, one of you try and scare it so it jumps, and I'll get it," Martha said.
"Scare it how?" Gwen asked.
"Throw something, I don't know," Martha said.
"Here," Mickey had retrieved something almost as soon as she suggested scaring it, and held what he had found much too close to Martha's face for comfort. She swore and nearly hit it out of his hand when she saw it was one of the many shit-covered condoms they kept seeing, which found their way into the sewers from people flushing them down the toilet instead of throwing them in the bin, and then got filled with disgusting water along with the curdled dregs of semen.
"Chuck it at Jack!" Gwen ordered him, and so he immediately did, almost too quickly for Martha to get ready with her net to catch the thing. The condom hit Jack's dead back and exploded, making the worm screech a very high-pitched whistle and launch itself into the air to dive away and flee again. But this time they outsmarted it, and Martha snagged it out of the air with the chainmail net, and then pressed a button on the end of the pole so that the net closed itself off nicely. The worm was not strong enough to bite through the titanium chainmail like it had bitten through Gwen's pole, and finally they had it caught.
"Right, I'll take the Bullpillar, and you two can drag Jack's corpse back to the surface," Martha said, taking charge again if only to avoid having to fish Jack's body out of the river of poo. "And then we'll… I don't know. Throw him off the docks to clean up a bit before letting him back into base?"
"No," said Gwen, then down the earpiece, "Ianto, get the hosepipes ready on the docks. We'll all be needing a rinse."
"You know, the Torchwood paycheque is pretty big," Mickey began, going to locate one of Jack's arms in the sewage while Gwen went to find the other one, "But I still don't think it covers having to do things like this."
AN: I thought I would bring back some of the classic grossness of this fic for this storyline XD but, you know, I needed something simple since there's more important stuff going on right now than the poo worm. There's nothing exceedingly disgusting in the next few, though. Not unless I change my mind about what I'm writing on a whim.
Anyway, the next day in fic is gonna be a Downtime Day because you remember I used to do those all the time where it was just them hanging about on the TARDIS together, and I really am missing doing a lot of TARDIS-centric stuff, so if any of you guys have any ideas for chill things they can do that are just shenanigans and not too stressful or crazy that would be cool. So far I think I might write in this bit I've had for a while where the girls play a game where they try to guess very personal things about Clara which was quite funny, then I might actually have Ravenwood be on the TARDIS briefly and have Jenny teach Nios how to cook. Aside from that I haven't got ideas for a lot of the other characters, and it would be nice to include them all.