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Torchwood Fic: Evolution (12/?)
Author: Emma
Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Rhys Williams, others
Rating: Starts PG, but hey, it’s got Jack and Ianto in it!
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?
Summary: Rhys Williams has his own monsters to fight, but why can't he remember?
Author’s Note: This story takes place in a totally different AU from Homecoming. In this one, Gwen and Owen died at the end of TW2.
Author's Note: Sorry this has taken so long. Real Life has been a bitch and a half this week. Things should get much smoother from now on (fake-spit three times through the index and middle fingers of your right hand for luck!)
Prologue is here; Part one is here; Part two is here ; Part three is here ; Part four is here ; Part five is here ; Part six is here ; Part seven is here ; Part eight is here ; Part nine is here; Part ten is here ; Part eleven is here
Mike sprawled on Mrs. Hill’s armchair, absently twirling one of her crochet needles between his fingers. If Jack was right, here was the last purebred genetic descendant of an immensely powerful human society. All I saw was a gangly young man who hadn’t quite yet grown into his own body, or, if truth be told, his mind. In old country parlance, Mike was a little slow. Mike’s only gift was for horses.
Thomas and Euan were sitting at the table, mugs in hand. I nodded in passing as I went to talk to Mike.
“Hey, Rhys.”
“Mike. I’m sorry about Ollie.”
“Yeah.” He shook his head. “I’m going to miss him, you know? He always made me feel like we were really brothers. When we were kids he used to take blame for things I did so mam-gu wouldn’t smack me around. Did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t. Mike, this is my friend Jack. He wants to ask you a few questions. All right?”
“Sure.”
Jack pulled up one of the kitchen chairs and sat down knee-to-knee with Mike. I moved away to stand next to Ianto. He was focused on Jack and Mike; the faint narrowing of his eyes told me he was seeing something I wasn’t. Martha, who had been busily pushing buttons and twisting dials in her scanning wand thing, had a similar look on her face. Curious, I turned around to look. It took me a few minutes, but I finally saw it.
Mike looked like Jack.
It was what my mum would call a family air rather than an actual resemblance. They were both tall and long-legged. Mike’s hair was a little darker than Jack’s and his eyes a bit lighter, but the bone structure underneath seemed to have been carved to the same pattern. The difference was that where Mike was clumsy and uncertain, Jack was graceful and self-assured. In horse terms they were both thoroughbreds, but Mike was a yearling and Jack was a stallion in prime condition.
“Mike, where were you this week?”
“Went walking with Bevan and Harry, round Garigill. Never been climbing in the
Euan looked a bit confused. “Mike, mate, Bevan and Harry say you weren’t with them.”
“That’s crazy.” Mike dropped the crochet needle. “Why would they say that?”
I touched Euan’s shoulder to get his attention and shook my head. There was something about the way Jack was sitting, leaning close to Mike, his hands darting in to touch Mike’s hands and arms with quick little pats that Mike didn’t even seem to feel, that made me realize there was more to this than an everyday police interrogation.
“Mike,” Jack said again, “where were you this week?”
“Walking with… at the lab” pat, pat, “ you know, with Be…” pat “for tests…no, I was in
He threw himself backwards, huddling into the armchair with his arms around his knees like a child. Thomas jumped up and launched himself at Jack, only to be body-blocked by Ianto.
“What the hell did you do to him?”
“I didn’t do anything,’ Jack said tiredly, “but someone certainly has. Mike has had some serious neuroconditioning work done, probably over a long period of time. Martha?”
Without a word, she moved to kneel at Mike’s feet, taking his hands in hers. “Mike? My name is Martha and I’m a doctor. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Can I check you out a little?”
“OK,” Mike’s voice was hesitant, but he unwound from his huddle. “You’re going to use needles too?”
Martha didn’t react. “No. Needles are stupid. I’m just going to run this over you, like this. All right?”
“Cool.”
It took less than a minute and then Martha stood up. “I think you should have something to eat, Mike. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Yeah!”
“Mrs. Hill left a pie in the butler’s pantry, Mike.” Thomas said. “Go ahead and get yourself a big piece.” He waited until the boy had left the kitchen. “What the hell is going on here?”
Martha answered, but she was looking at Jack. “Someone is suppressing that boy’s development. There's a massive neurotransmitter imbalance and his hippocampus has been chemically inhibited.”
“Yeah.” Jack poured himself a cup of coffee and sipped thoughtfully. “Physically he’s normal. It’s not unusual for… his people to have extended childhoods. Mentally, though, it feels like they've thrown a blanket over him. From the depth and strength of it, I'd say they had to start working on him when he was still a child.”
“Can it be reversed?” Ianto asked.
“Yes,” Jack said. “They're using a chemical cocktail used to control violent criminals. It flushes out of your system after a while.”
“So that's why they need to see him every year.” I guessed. “Booster shots.”
Thomas and Euan stared at us as if faced with escapees from the local madhouse.
“There's no way anyone could have done something to Mike when he was a kid,” Thomas said. “His mum was really careful with him. He was never out of her sight.”
“Except in the afternoons,” Euan murmured. “His mum went to work and left him and Ollie with the old bat. And she hated Mike. Don't give me that look, Thomas, you know she did.”
“The old bat?” Ianto asked.
“His grandmother. Mrs. Jones.” Euan sat up as if someone had prodded him on his behind with a quirt. “The lady who didn't see anything the night Ollie was killed.”
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I love the way Jack deals with Mike ... and Rhys is so astute.
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*ponders*
Loved the comparisons between Mike and Jack =D
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I love the way Rhys is picking up on all the things he isn't 'supposed' to know, he's a sharp one is our Rhys.
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tune in next week for the exciting revelation -who's messing with Mike?
-you get a Squeee from me for this.
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... on the plus side i'm so happy i didn't, this is just brilliant. Very interesting idea and i can't wait for more.
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