Title: Bred in the Bone (19/20)

Author: Emma

Characters: Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Andy Davidson, Toshiko Sato, 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: Andy Davidson must embrace his inheritance in order to protect Jack and Ianto’s daughter Gwen

Author's Note: This is an AU where Gwen and Owen were killed by Gray. So if you want to know why Martha is married to Rhys and Jack and Ianto have a CP and two adopted daughters, you may want to read Evolution first

Author’s Note: The title is shamelessly stolen from Robertson Davies’s magnificent novel. It’s also an old saying: what’s bred in the bone will out in the flesh

Part One is here; Part Two is here; Part Three is here; Part Four is here; Part Five is here; Part Six is here; Interlude is here; Part Seven is here; Part Eight is here; Part Nine is here; Part Ten is here; Part Eleven is here; Part Twelve is here; Part Thirteen is here; Part Fourteen is here; Interlude Two is here; Part Fifteen is here; Part Sixteen is here; Part Seventeen is here; Part Eighteen is here

 

            We left the SUV parked in front of Susan Creevey’s house. We were fairly close to the Great Path, and I suggested to Ianto we try to use its energy to create a temporary Path of our own.  I wouldn’t have risked it alone, but when Ianto and I combined our magicks, our Power multiplied. It wasn’t surprising; after all, it was what we were bred to do. It was still a hell of a job, though. The Paths have a mind of their own, sometimes, and borrowing enough energy to build your own shortcut often resembles wrestling a greased pig.

 

            We stepped out right on the street in front of the place where the Ritz had been. After the dance hall had been demolished, some developer with more money than taste had put up one of those modern glass monstrosities. It had been gutted by fire three years later, and the developer had taken the insurance money and scarpered to Belfast. Now the whole place was surrounded by a construction fence, as another twpsyn was trying it again, with a design that, from the sketch displayed on the fence, looked remarkably like the first one.

 

            Ianto started for the entrance, but I grabbed his arm.

 

            “Hold on a minute.” He gave me one of his patented get-out-of-my-way looks. “Can’t you feel it?”

 

            He started to shake his head then stopped as it hit him. “Feels like… I’m standing next to a big turbine. Makes your every bone vibrate.”

 

            “It’s the Rift. This place has been connected to it for so long, it’s started to develop a physical presence inside it. If Creevey wanted to hide, it’s the perfect place.”

 

            “So let’s go!”

 

            “I can’t. I’m blind inside the Road!” I nearly screamed at him in frustration. “My people burned out part of their senses when we closed the Road behind us to keep all other Universes safe, remember?”

 

            “Then how do I get in there? Because I’m not leaving Jack to face that crazy woman alone!”

 

            “Nay, young lords, surely ‘tis too soon for despair.”

 

            We wheeled around to find Robin perched on the decorative railing of the house across the street. He was dressed as Puck is usually dressed in middle school productions of Midsummer: a short chiton embroidered at the hem and a crown of flowers. The costume was, I had discovered, a sort of weapon. Whenever Robin acted the fool, there was something stirring in the deep waters. He was carrying our staves.

 

            “Can you show me how to get in there?” Ianto asked.

 

            “Certes, Your Majesty. But I can do one better.” He jumped down to stand next to us, handing us our weapons. “If you will allow me, I can help both of you See.”

 

            For the first time in a long time I addressed him as I had done as a child. “Uncle Robin, how can that be?”

 

            “The Sight can be shared. Not for long, mind you, and only between those who have placed trust on each other. You will have enough time to go in and retrieve Your Majesty’s Consort and his bodyguard.”

 

            Ianto gave him an odd look. “John…”

 

            “He protects what is yours.” Robin waved his hand as if sweeping aside questions. “Shall we, gentles?”

 

            He made us bend down so he could lay his hands on our temples.  At first there was nothing and then something inside my head seemed to snap open. It hurt like bloody blazes for a few seconds.

 

            “Stand upright, slowly. Keep your eyes closed, nephew. Master of Winter, open your eyes and See.”

 

            I heard Ianto gasp and Robin chuckle.

 

            “Now open your eyes and See, Master of Summer.”

 

            I did as was told and nearly swallowed my tongue. Superimposed on the construction site was another building, half-ghost and half-real, built of red brick and lined with lovely ironwork railings. Behind it there was a vast, grey cloud that swirled and heaved as if alive. Reddish lightning shot through it at irregular intervals.

 

            “Let us go.” Robin said.

 

            We followed him up the steps. The open opened as he reached it and we could hear music. A woman’s screams and the howls of tywyl made a terrible counterpoint. We ran towards the noise.

             

            In the ballroom, Jack was on the floor. John Hart stood over him, holding back three tywyl with his sword. He was bleeding from several cuts to his legs and chest. Kneeling at his feet Pansy deflected bolt after bolt being thrown by another two tywyl, turning them back on their source. She was as good a shot as Hart was a swordsman; there was tywyl blood everywhere.  I had never seen a Small One use Energy exactly in that fashion, and made a mental note to ask Robin about it later.

 

            Across the room, a woman struggled with a young girl. Susan Creevey was short, thin to the point of emaciation, with long blonde hair in a big untidy bun at the back of the neck. Jasmine Pierce was still a child, but her face had acquired a tywyl cast to it as if by osmosis, and she had strength to her that a human child did not. Her teeth were clamped on Creevey’s arm and she held on like a terrier even as Creevey tried to shake her loose.  Creevey was screaming and foam ran out the side of her mouth.

             

            Seeing Jack unconscious or dead seemed to drive Ianto coldly mad. He pulled Energy from the Rift itself as he wielded his staff, and whatever he struck burnt. The tywyl shrieked as the wood slashed down on their hands and feet. They retreated to a circling pattern near the ceiling.

 

            I left him to it and headed towards Susan Creevey. She had managed to get a hold of Jasmine and was pushing her head first into the cushion of one of the chairs, trying to smother her. She had underestimated the child, though. Jasmine had spent years in the woods, and her playmates had been tywyl and animals. She kicked back, catching Creevey several sharp blows in the shins, and sending her reeling back directly into me.

 

            I grabbed her arms, pinning her down as much as I could. “Leave!” I shouted to Jasmine. “And take your friends with you!”

 

            She looked at me, head cocked, considering. “As you say, Usurper King.”

 

            They popped out in their usual burst of high wind and rose petals. I was too busy to admire their posturing. Susan Creevey was fighting me for all she was worth. She had the strength of the mad, and I was fighting her on both levels. Her magick was half-wild, and it had the cold, metallic taste the tywyl she had tortured had warned us about.

 

            And the building was fading out. The sharing was failing and I was starting to go blind.

 

            “Uncle Robin! Help!”

 

            Then he was in front of me, and the Fool had been transmuted into the powerful, dreadful being I knew he was. He spoke a few words under his breath and Creevey stopped her screaming. She stared at him in abject terror and, suddenly, I knew what was happening. He had done it to me, once, because I had refused to believe his word that it could be done and I had to learn to protect against it.

 

            He was inside her mind.

 

            She started to shake violently, pushing backwards into me, trying to escape whatever it was he was doing. He held her with his eyes, nothing more. After a few minutes, she folded gently downwards, like a flower at the end of the day. He caught her as he fell, and took her down to the floor, crooning as if she were a child.

 

            “Uncle Puck, we must go.”

 

            “You go ahead. I shall follow.”

 

            “But…”

 

            I felt Ianto’s hand tugging at my shoulder. “You heard him. Let’s go.”