Title:  The Siege of Annwfn (1/10)

Author:  Emma

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Torchwood Three Team, Others.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?

Spoilers: None. This takes place in my Homecoming AU, a few months after The Eye of Neith.

Summary: The only things that stand between our Universe and disaster are Torchwood Three and Ianto’s growing powers…

          Over the years, Jack had grown to hate visiting London. As soon as Gwen had felt comfortable handling liaison work on her own he had turned it all over to her with a sigh of relief. These days, with Ianto back home, he was even less inclined to leave Cardiff. The others teased him about that – intergalactic traveler puts down roots in small town – but Jack knew that it was simply his way of creating sweet memories to stand against a lonely future. He still marveled at the little family that had gathered around him, and he wanted to enjoy that feeling of belonging as long as possible.

            Still, when Francine Jones said jump one asked how high on the way up. Nearing ninety, Martha’s indomitable mother had become adoptive grandmother and unofficial Torchwood matriarch after Gwen’s mother had unexpectedly been diagnosed with invasive cancer. Francine had swept down from London and taken over the Cooper-Williams household and the newborn twins, leaving Gwen and Rhys free to handle arrangements for care, treatment, and ultimately, the funeral.

            One night while waiting for Gwen and Rhys to return from hospital, Jack had told Francine about the great battle against Davros and his new breed of Dalek, and of Donna Noble’s amazing transformation. Jack worried about Donna. He had arranged for Torchwood One to keep an eye on her and her family, but didn’t dare approach them himself, fearing one single slip that could trigger her memories. When she returned to London, Francine had managed to befriend Wilfred and Sylvia and had kept Jack informed of what was happening in Donna’s life.

            That morning, Jack had received a call from Francine. “Jack, you need to get here today. Donna collapsed suddenly this morning. She’s in intensive care at St. Michael’s. And Jack… her memory is coming back.”

            Jack and Martha had made the trip to London in record time. St. Michael’s was a small institution that served UNIT and Torchwood families. Francine had bullied the London authorities into transferring Donna to their intensive care unit. The fact that she could throw around not only Jack’s name but that of  Dr. Martha Jones, Torchwood Chief Medical Officer, and Professor Tish Jones, Head of Linguistic Studies for Torchwood’s research lab, seemed to have worked wonders.

            They found Francine and Sylvia Noble in the ICU waiting room. Donna’s mother seemed sad but oddly resigned.

            “She was never the same after he brought her back. Oh, she sounded the same, and she had this drive. She had her own business, did you know? SuperTemp, very successful. But there was always something sad and lost underneath. She would cry in her sleep. She had obsessions about the oddest things, like Pompeii, watched every show on the telly, visited museums, the lot. She even read up on World War II uniforms.” She looked Jack up and down. “Now I know why.”

            “She had been feeling ill for some time,” Francine said, “but she kept insisting it was just allergies. This morning she went into convulsions and collapsed. When she came to, she started asking about the two of you and Sarah Jane Smith.”

            “She’s in pain, though,” Sylvia whispered. “I can see it in her eyes.”

            Jack and Martha shared a sad look. Donna’s human brain couldn’t hold all the knowledge she had acquired from the Doctor’s mind during the biological metacrisis that had created the second, human Doctor, and the Doctor Donna the Ood had prophesied. The more she remembered, the more likely it was that her brain would overload and kill her.

            “Then we better get in there and see if there’s anything we can do.’ Jack squeezed Sylvia’s hand. “Thank you for letting Francine call us. Donna means a lot to us.”

            He followed Martha down the corridor and into Donna’s room. She lay in bed, propped up with several pillows. In Jack’s eyes she seemed little changed from the last time he had seen her, except for the lines of pain that creased her forehead and bracketed her lips. There were all kinds of sensors attached to her body, and an IV dripped something into her left arm. The shades had been drawn and the lights dimmed.

            A nurse sat by the bedside, holding Donna’s hand. He looked up at their entrance, looking immediately relieved.

            “You must be Captain Harkness and Doctor Jones. I’m so glad you’re here. I was afraid that…” He broke off with an apologetic little shrug.

            “Just say it, Nursie Boy.” Donna’s voice was weak but held the same amount of acid it always had. “Before I go under for the last time. Hello, dish.”

            Jack grinned at her. “Hello, gorgeous.”

            “I was talking to Martha, Jack.” She laughed, and then started to cough. “Jesus. Even laughing hurts. Martha, stop reading my chart. I’m dying, and there’s naught to be done about it.”

            “Stop sassing the doctor, Red.” Jack nodded at the nurse. “Could you give us a few minutes?”

            The young man hesitated, then nodded and left the room. Jack sat down in the chair he had vacated and took Donna’s hand.

            “I won’t ask how you’re feeling.”

            “Good idea. I’d hate to have my last action be smacking you one in the ear.” She patted his cheek. “I’m glad you’re here. Both of you.”

            Martha sat on the other side of the bed. “Donna, we could call the Doctor…”

            “No! I would rather die than lose my memories again, and you both know it. Otherwise the skinny Martian would be standing here right now.”

            Jack kissed her knuckles. “You know us too well, Red.”

            “So keep me happy for a while. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

            Jack spoke for a while, telling her about Ianto, Cardiff, the team at Torchwood Three, and his godchild Toshiko. Donna seemed content to just to listen, soaking up twenty-three years of friendship in a few minutes. Finally, when he judged she would listen calmly, Jack asked her again.

            “Donna, are you sure you don’t want us to call the Doctor?”

            “After I’m gone, Jack. If he shows up now he’d try to talk me into… going back… and I don’t want to end my days fighting with my best friend.”

            “All right.”

            Her mind seemed to meander off  into the past. “He did so much for me. I saw places, did things… Sometimes he worried about what he does to people. Silly. He’s lived so long and lost to much that he forgets that he can’t keep us in cotton wool forever…aaah.” She rubbed her forehead. “Damn headache. Jack, tell him…”

            Her body arched off the bed and she moaned in pain. Jack held her down. Her hand grabbed at him as she gasped.

            “Jack… Martha… it’s so beautiful… I can see it all, and it’s beautiful…”

            She screamed as her body convulsed again. Jack heard someone running down the corridor, and then the nurse rushed in. He was carrying a full syringe which he plunged into the IV. Within a few minutes, Donna relaxed and lay back.

            “She’ll be asleep for quite a while,” the nurse said. “The crises are coming faster and the pain is stronger each time. The only way for her to rest is to be under completely. You should go home and get some rest yourselves. I’m sorry to say it, but tomorrow might be your last chance to talk to her.”

            “Thank you…”

            “Gwair, ma’am.”

            “Welsh?”

            “Yes, ma’am. From Caerau, right outside Cardiff. I understand that you both live there.”

            “We do, Gwair.” Jack took Martha’s arm. “Thank you for taking care of her. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

            Jack left Martha with Francine and Sylvia and went to get the SUV. He felt unhappy about keeping the Doctor in the dark, but he understood Donna’s determination to remember her amazing days as a Companion. The Doctor had once told him that the Ood still sang in Donna’s honour. How could the Time Lord think she would willingly forget making such a difference?

            *Jack! Go back! Something’s happening to Donna!*

            Ianto’s mind-scream was almost painful in its intensity. Instinctively, Jack wheeled around towards Donna’s room, shouting for Martha as he ran. He crashed through the door to see Gwair struggling with a rainbow-colored shifting mass of energy that seemed to trail from Donna’s body. The nurse no longer wore his uniform. Instead he seemed clothed in white robes, like a priest. A gleaming blue-gray chain was wrapped around his waist, the other end trailing off into… nothing. At least nothing Jack could see, but he could sense it was there, pulling Gwair back into itself.

            Jack heard Martha come into the room. He tried to hold on to Gwair, only to be sent crashing to the ground by a violent jolt. He saw the young man being pulled towards the nothingness, arms full of energy. He looked grief-stricken, and there were tears running down his cheeks.

            “Remember!” he shouted. “Only seven returned!”

            And then he was gone, and the room was empty. Jack picked himself off the floor and looked at the bed. Martha was cradling Donna’s body.

            “She’s dead, Jack. Donna’s dead.”


edited slightly to correct some minor grammar issues that were driving me crazy