Title: Invincible Summer (6/6)

Author: Emma

Characters: Tish Jones, John Hart, Andy Davidson

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 year or so after The Hour of the Wolf

Summary: The Year That Never Was comes back to haunt Tish Jones and it’s up to John and Andy to help her exorcise the ghost.
Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. I have been plotting the next Ianto!TARDIS and I went deep into denial  as I realized that it would be the last time we saw the team together.

In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. —Albert Camus

            As they reached the lychgate, she heard the first rumble of thunder out over the channel. The lunch-time weather report had predicted storms for the next day, but it sounded as if Mother Nature was flaunting her reputation for unpredictability. She looked over her shoulder. Dark clouds were racing towards land, and whitecaps dotted the water.

            “It’s going to rain,” she whispered.

            “It’s going to pour, thank God,” Andy answered the same way. “One good storm and the no-sound gizmo and we’ll have them blind.”

            “No-sound gizmo? Is that the technical term for it?” she teased.

            He gave one of his expressive shrugs. “It’s shorter than fiberoptic-guided spread spectrum sound wave disruptor.”

            She threaded her arm through his. “I guess so!”

            The churchyard was beautifully kept, with small benches set under the trees and rose bushes lining the walk. As they passed one spectacular specimen, John broke off a bloom and presented it to her. It had delicate golden petals that shaded to a rich burgundy at the throat.

            “Reminds me of you,” was all he said.

            They entered the church through the transept door. It was rather plain, but as well kept as the churchyard. Dark wood gleamed under decades of careful waxing. The simple silver crucifix on the main altar spoke of an ascetic faith, while two graceful urns filled with greenery and wild flowers lent a romantic touch. But it was the glorious rose window behind it that caught and held the eye. The stained glass showed Fulworth during a storm; beyond the headlands, a ship was breaking up against the rocks while up on the hill the church blazed with light.

            “I suppose a seafaring town would ask for protection against storms,” John said. “But isn’t that an unusual subject for the main window of a church?”

            Andy was examining the scene with a look of undisguised horror. “It wasn’t an accident.”

            “What do you mean?” Tish asked.

            “The lady Eve. And a couple of dozen others, I imagine.” He pointed at the lower left hand part, where a smaller light shone weakly. “That’s the Fulworth light on the other side of the bay. Picture yourself out on the Channel on a ship being tossed around. You know the Fulworth light can get you past the rocks and into harbor. Suddenly you see it, a bright conflagration on the horizon. The darkness and the storm are playing merry hell with your ability to judge distances. You can’t even tell exactly where things are, so the idea that what you are seeing is actually half-way up the cliff doesn’t even enter your mind. You aim for the light and pray. You don’t know, you can’t know, they’re luring you onto the rocks.”

            “Very good, Mr. Davidson.”

            They turned towards the voice. At the chancel entrance, two men wearing standard UNIT camouflage flanked another wearing a twenty-year old colonel’s uniform. Tish had promised herself she would not give Stannick the pleasure of a reaction, but she couldn’t control the gasp that escaped her when she saw him.

            Stannick was in a wheelchair. His legs were missing from the knees down. The trousers had been neatly pinned out of the way. There was severe scarring on the right side of his neck  that extended up into the scalp. His hair had been shaved away from  the scarred areas and kept closely cropped on the rest. The only thing that were as she remembered were his eyes: burning hot in a cold face, they weighed everything and everyone and found them all wanting.

            “The villagers were terrified when most of the town slid into the harbor after the Lady Eve sank. They took it as a sign of God’s displeasure. When they built the church they placed a permanent reminder of their sin up there for all to see.”

            He pressed a button and the chair glided forward until he was a short distance from them. “Well, Letitia. Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”

            “Toclafane,” John said before she could speak. “The burn pattern is quite distinctive.”

            “Ah. The mysterious John Hart. Rumor has it you have more familiarity with certain events than you should have.”

            “Amazing what the Rift will toss up. “How did you manage to piss off the poisonous little pus bags?”

            “At the end, when the Doctor started to regenerate, I realized that strategic retreat was my best option. I gathered my squadron and headed for the escape pods. Unfortunately I didn’t know the Master had given the Toclafane very specific instructions about dealing with traitors.” He made a dismissing motion. “I survived.”

                        He maneuvered the wheelchair until he was directly facing Tish. “Letitia. I’ve wanted to see you again for a very long time.”

            “Where’s Annie, Stannick?”

            “Always worried about others. I remember how you worried about Harkness. You know, I expected to hear good news about the two of you. Instead he went back to his beautiful boy in Cardiff and sent you off to University like an errant daughter. Did it bother you to know you weren’t good enough for him, Letitia?”

            Outside, the storm finally broke. Thunder rolled directly overhead, and wind and rain rattled the windows. Tish felt oddly energized. At any other time she would have thought about ozone levels; now she drew on the elemental rage.

            “Don’t worry about my ego, Colonel. These days it’s pretty damn healthy. Now why don’t you have one of your goons bring Annie here?”

            “You have disappointed me, Letitia. You were so virginal, so special. Now I find you rutting with two men like a common whore.”

            “Oi!” Andy slammed his hand down on the back of one of the pews. “Watch your mouth.”

            Stannick slid contemptuous eyes over him. “Hart I could understand, Letitia. He has a certain reputation. But this one? A street cop Harkness picked out of the gutter because he needed cannon fodder? You have demeaned yourself by crawling into his bed.”

            John’s peal of laughter had them all whipping around. “Now, see, that tells me your intel is not nearly good enough. Not that is was any better in the Valiant, either.”

            “Explain, Mr. Hart.”

            “You spent a lot of time looking for spies in the Valiant. Everyone knew information was getting back to the resistance, especially to the Cleddyfwyr in Cardiff. You never found them.”

            Stannick twisted to look at Andy. “Him? That is an unworthy lie, Hart. I know about Mrs. Saxon.”

            “Lucy concentrated in keeping the security forces misinformed about the real identity of the Cleddyfwyr. Andy here gathered intel and fed it back to the Hub. He was the one your counterintelligence analysts code-named the Ghost in the Machine.” John laughed again. “They never suspected. I mean, really, who would look twice at a quiet little local police liaison?”

            Stannick considered the information, then nodded. “My apologies, Mr. Davidson. I seem to have underestimated you.”

            “Plenty of people do.” Andy shrugged. “It works out very nicely for me. But now that we seem to understand each other…why are you stalling?”

            “I do not understand.”

            “Don’t start our new relationship by lying to my face, Colonel. You have been chatting up a storm, but you’ve kept your eye on the Lady chapel the whole time.Your two bodyguards haven’t twitched an eyelid since you got here. Now, that’s not natural, even for trained palace guards. If you look closely, you can see the bracelets under the shirt cuffs. You’re wearing a similar one. The natural assumption would be you are controlling them, but the thing is, you have been fixated on driving Tish into fits. I don’t think you could have maintained such perfect control throughout. I think somebody else is in control here and you are dancing to their tune.” He raised his voice. “Right, Annie?”

            The girl stepped out from behind the Lady chapel screen. She wore trousers and a tunic made up to resemble an old UNIT uniform by a rather inexpert sewing hand. Around her neck, resting against the hollow of her throat, was a large triangular gold pendant with a bluish stone in its center. She carried a standard issue UNIT gun. But it was her face that explained so much to Tish.

            Scrubbed clean of the Goth makeup and with her exhuberant curls ruthlessly smoothed back, Annie was a female version of Stannick.

            “How did you know?” Her sing-song voice chilled Tish. “I was very careful.”

            “Yes, you were, but I’m trained to look at faces, not at makeup. The moment I saw your Tad, I knew. You’re very like him.”

            “I’m exactly like him. Exactly. “

            “Annie…” Tish kept her voice low and submissive. “Why are you doing this?”       

            “I have to protect him, don’t I? Mum and I have always protected him. Captain Harkness was not a problem, he’s almost never here, and besides, Mum says he saw Dad only once or twice. But you knew him very well.  Mum always says you’re the one we have to worry about.”

            “Annie,” said Andy, “where is your mum?”

            “She’s not strong enough anymore so I gave her some of her medication. She has terrible nightmares, can’t sleep without it. She’ll sleep a long time.”

            John started to move away slowly, keeping his hands open and relaxed. “Do what, Annie? What couldn’t your mum do?”

            “Convince Dad to help those others who came from London. See, I figure if Dad’s a colonel again, with lots of soldiers and people obeying his orders, we’ll be safe. But he won’t do it!” her voice rose in a shrill whine. “Even after I put a bracelet on him, he won’t do it!”

            While John kept Annie occupied, Tish moved closer to Stannick. “How long has she been this way?”

            “I don’t think she’s ever been quite sane.” Shockingly she could see grief in his eyes. “Mary’s influence and my own genetic deficiencies.”

            “She’s your clone, isn’t she?”

            He nodded. “Mary wanted a child and it seemed the least… distasteful way. I didn’t realize I could come to love her so much. Or feel so helpless.”

            Tish couldn’t find any words that would adequately express the roiling mass at the pit of her stomach. After so many years of hate and fear, finding a grieving father rather than a monster was almost more than she could bear.

            “She’s my penance for you, I think,” Stannick mused. “You scared me. I felt things for you that terrified me, so I abused you. The more I felt, the more I did it.” He held up a hand. “Don’t say it. I know how inadequate and self-serving it sounds. I doesn’t excuse a damn thing and you have the absolute right to hate me until the day you die.”

            Tish’s choked sob attracted Annie’s attention. “What are you doing to him? What are you doing?”

            “She’s not doing anything, Annie.” Stannick soothed. “We’re talking, that’s all.”

            “Well, I don’t like it. Mum says you really like her. I don’t think you should like her. She can hurt us really bad.”

            She brought the gun up.

            “Annie, don’t!” Stannick gripped the arms of his chair, leveraging himself up.

            “If I kill her, you’ll be safe. We can call your friends from London and we can be safe with them.” She aimed carefully as if she were in a shooting range. “We’ll be safe.”

            As she fired, Stannick launched himself out of his chair, shoving Tish out of the way. The shot caught him in the stomach and he landed heavily on the flagstones. Annie started to scream, aiming and shooting at random. The two men by the door collapsed as if they were puppets and someone had cut off their strings. Their faces went from blankness to terror, and they tried to crawl towards the door. John dove into Annie’s legs, bringing her down. She kicked and scratched as she tried to fight him off.  Keeping her pinned down, he took a capsule out of his pocket and popped it under her nose. She went still. When he moved away, she curled into a foetal position, sobbing quietly.

            Tish crawled to her hands and knees and looked around. “Andy!”

            She ran to him. He was sitting in one of the pews, holding his arm. “It’s nothing, cariad. Just a graze. I won’t even need stitches.”

            “Be quiet,” she snapped. “You could have been killed.”

            He pulled her to him. She hid her face in his neck and held out her hand demandingly. John came up behind them and took it, pressing himself to her, holding on to Andy with his other hand. They didn’t even notice the shouting and running outside, nor the small group that ran into the church, guns drawn.

            “Well, hell. You were right, Jack. How am I going to explain this to mother?”

            “Let Tish do it. She’s a clever girl.”