Title: Captain James Harper (4/4)
Author: Emma
Characters: Canonical Torchwood Three members… sort of.
Rating: Some chapters definitely not safe for work.
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: The darkness gathers, but the team finds strength in each other...
Author’s Note: http://www.new-age.co.uk/welsh-burial-chambers.htm Tinkinswood and St.Lythans...

NOTE: For those of you coming here from Children of Time,  in this AU I sometimes write extra material I call Codas. The one for this story is here

Part One is here; Part Two is here; Part Three is here

Jack studied the figures on the screen. “He left and locked the door behind him.”
 

Tosh nodded. “Yes, but see these here? The amount of energy being expended to maintain the shield is astronomical. Whatever Manger could produce with his gadget was a candle compared to a nuclear furnace.”
 

“So you’re saying that he didn’t create the shield. He found it and made use of it?”
 

“That’s the most logical assumption. I compared the current readings with the ones for the last five years. There’s a slight difference in the energy signatures.” She pointed. “Almost unnoticeable unless you’re looking for it.”
 

“Yes.” He tapped on the table top as he read and re-read the screen. “Remind me of this the next time you want an equipment upgrade and I get stroppy, Tosh.”
 

“Deal.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “We might not get out of here, Jack.”
 

“Don’t be silly,” he admonished gently, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You got the information out. All we need to do is wait for the right moment.”
 

She tilted her head so she could see his face. “And what about Captain Harper, Jack?”
 

“He will have a choice. They all will.”
 

“What sort of a choice?” They both turned to find the Captain standing behind them carrying two plates full of small sandwiches. He placed them on the table and slid into the booth next to Jack. “I noticed neither one of you ate earlier so I thought… They do say people who eavesdrop only have themselves to blame for what they hear. Tell me.”
 

Jack took a deep breath. “Do either one of you know anything about fairy forts?”
 

Tosh stared at him, wide eyed and silent. The Captain shrugged.
 

“Only what I’ve picked up from reading and mess hall bull. I was brought up strict Catholic, so there wasn’t much about anything pagan when I was growing up. The stories are always about someone who falls into a fairy fort, thinks he’s been there a year, and when he comes out one hundred years have passed. Are you saying this is a fairy fort?”
 

“No, but it does share some of their characteristics.” Jack bit into a sandwich and grinned at Tosh’s little bleat of distress. “That’s superstition, Tosh. Eating fairy food will not enchant you into staying with them.”
 

“Then what does?” The Captain asked.
 

“The fort itself. Fairy forts are invisible to the human eye because they are constantly moving between Earth and Annwfn. Inside, the sense of time passing is lost because the fort is moving too fast relative to the two worlds outside. The Fair Folk control when a fort stops for long enough for anyone to enter or leave.”
 

“So it moves in time as well as space?” Tosh’s eyes went dreamy. “But that means…”
 

“What does that have to do with my making a choice?” the Captain interrupted.
 

Jack laid his hand on the Captain's arm. “When the fort stops, the time inside resets to match the time outside.”
 

The Captain flinched. “And I've been thirty-two since nineteen-forty one.”
 

“You could stay here. As long as you stay inside the perimeter…”
 

The Captain made a sweeping gesture that took in all the café. “This isn't living, Jack. I'll take whatever little time I have outside. I'll bet you'll find we all will. What's the most someone has survived after living in a fairy fort?”
 

“A few months. A year at most.”
 

“Aging sixty five or so years in a few months.” The Captain sighed. “That's going to be difficult.”
 

“Actually, no. It doesn't happen that way. You stay as you are until one day you don't wake up, and your corpse looks its age.” Jack looked down at the table. “And there are other options, if you wish them.”
 

Toshiko held up a hand. “We're getting ahead of ourselves here. Manger took his gadget with him. The only way to stop the hotel is from the outside. Even if the falcon gets the message to someone, how would they know what to do?”
 

Jack laughed. “You forget, Tosh. One of us really has a fairy godmother.”

 

 

Gwen held very still as Ianto went from tree to tree, touching the trunks for a few minutes and then moving on. She had never seen an Achlesydd at work. They were the oldest of the Old Lines, and their magic was subtle and secret. Even now she could barely follow Ianto's movements as he Spoke to the trees. Finally, he nodded and bowed.
 

“Jack and Tosh were here. The One Who Answers tried to lure Tosh in but a kitsune stopped it. They walked back to the hotel and went in. Sometime later a man came out and drove the SUV away.”
 

“Let's go, then.”
 

He pulled her back none too gently. “The Trees do not like the hotel. They say it's not a proper place.”
 

“Trees have a sense of propriety?” She nearly chuckled until she saw the look on his face. “Sorry, Ianto. I'm nervous, yeah?”
 

He stroked her cheek. “I know. Yes, they do, but not like ours. Trees deal in archetypes, Gwen. They think the St. Lythans lacks, well, buildishness. They think it is insane.”
 

She shivered at the choice of words. She started to ask another question, but the harsh “kak, kak, kak” of a falcon high overhead distracted her. She looked up in time to see it throw itself into a flat-out dive towards them. It moved so fast she didn't have a chance to give Ianto a warning before the falcon had pulled out of the dive just a few inches from their faces. The harsh call repeated itself as it exended one of its claws out. Ianto put out his hand and the falcon dropped a piece of paper into it.
 

“Clever Tosh,” Ianto murmured as he unrolled the paper. “Gwen, look at this.”
 

“Disrupt en. waves construct. inter. What does that mean?”
 

“She's telling us what we have to do to stop whatever is happening. But what exactly is happening...” he shrugged. “I have no idea.”
 

“What is it that we have to do?” Gwen asked, reading the message again. “Disrupt... energy waves?” A childhood memory teased her. “Ianto... why do the trees think the hotel is insane?”
 

“They said it isn’t rooted like a proper building. It moves... like an ocean wave? Or a breeze?”
 

“Arianhrod preserve us. Come on, Ianto!”
 

She took off at a dead run, using the remote to turn on the SUV. He chased after her, jumping into the passenger seat as she scrambled behind the wheel and set off at Jack-like speeds. “Gwen, where are we going?”
 

“Tinkinswood! When I was a little girl, my godmother told me that a fairy fort hid itself by moving between my world and hers on waves like the ones on the sea. It's mad, I know, but when you said that... Well, if I'm wrong it's only a couple of miles and they might know something anyway.”
 

He didn't bother to answer, holding on for dear life as the SUV careened down the road. A few minutes later Gwen threw it into a sharp turn and they splashed across a small stream and up to a large earth-covered mound crowned with several low stone walls framing a gigantic burial chamber. Gwen stopped the SUV at the foot of the mound, jumped out, and marched up the avenue created by the stone walls. Ianto followed to stand behind her and slightly to one side, as he often did with Jack.
 

“By the name of my Cradle I call unto thee.” Gwen's voice took on the cadence of an incantation. “By the name of my Blessing, I call unto thee. By the name of my Sanction, I call unto thee.”
 

To Ianto it seemed as if the stones flickered in and out of existence and then faded away completely. In their place was a large square tower with a massive iron door. They waited in silence until the door opened and a tall fairy lord stood barring the entrance.
 

“Who Cradled you, Blessed you, and Sanctioned you?”
 

“The Lady Aeronwen, sister to the High King.”
 

“She was always given to befriending mortals. I never was, nor do I intend to start now.” His eyes flicked over her to Ianto. “Ah. More interesting. Is he your paramour?”
 

“He is my friend.”
 

“I think I would like him for my own.” The fairy raised his hand. “Come here, mortal.”
 

Ianto dropped his wards and used his full force to throw back the Summons. “Do not speak to me as if I were a dog, elf.”
 

The fairy lord’s eyes widened as he felt the spell bounce back. He stepped closer and placed his fingertips on Ianto's chest. After a few seconds, he turned to Gwen. “You travel in rare circles, child. What is it you want?”
 

Gwen's expression clearly told Ianto that she was filing away that exchange for later discussion. “What can you tell us about the place near Maes-y-Felin?” She asked, using the most ancient name for St. Lythans.
 

“About sixty mortal years ago a man lived there with a sick daughter. He appealed to the One Who Answers for her health, and it answered by binding the dying child's spirit to the house and transferring the stones' powers to it.”
 

“Can it be stopped?” Gwen asked.
 

“I suppose it can.” The fae lord shrugged. “But why should we bother? It has nothing to do with us."
 

“It will,” Ianto said softly. “The Land’s Warrior is trapped inside and Darkness is on the move. Do you remember what happened the last time the Fair Folk turned their backs on mortals?”
 

“Indeed I do.” The fairy Lord studied them for what seemed like a long time. “Very well. I’ll summon the host.”

 

 

They knew the moment the assault on the St. Lythans started. The hotel shook as if caught in an earthquake. Glasses fell off the shelves behind the bar to smash on the tile; light bulbs exploded. A dull throbbing roar they could feel resonate through their bones rose and ebbed with each spasm.
 

They had spoken to each and everyone of the guests, and, as the Captain had predicted, they all had chosen to move on. Jack had emphasized that it was only a chance, but they hadn’t cared. Some had been shocked to realize how much time had passed, and were afraid of living outside after so many years, but once Jack reassured them that there would be a place for them to stay safely away from the world if they so chose they were eager to leave.
 

“I, for one, will be glad to tend a garden again, or hold a needle,” Mrs. Macris had said to Tosh, “even if it’s only for a few months.”
 

As soon as the first shock subsided, Jack started everyone moving. “Let’s get to the lobby, just in case we have to make a run for it.”
 

Doctor Macris, who had been sitting at the table closest to the door, tried to open it and was repulsed by an electric shock that threw him halfway across the room. Wooden shutters slammed over the windows, plunging the whole room in darkness. Jack felt a thick carpet appear underfoot; he touched a wall to discover a similar covering padding its surface.
 

“Someone doesn’t want us to leave!” The Captain shouted as the hotel started to shake again.
 

“It doesn’t want us to get hurt, either,” Jack said. “So let’s see how much pain it’s willing to inflict.”
 

He grabbed the door handle. Electricity flowed through him but he held on, feeling the skin of his palms burn and his bones crackle. He could see the Captain struggling with Tosh to keep her from throwing herself at him. Energy slammed through him. It lifted him off his feet and arched his spine until he was almost folded in half. He screamed.
 

Suddenly it was all over. The café door swung open and he stumbled out into the lobby. Nearly blind from the pain, he felt Tosh wrap her arm around his waist and the Captain around his shoulders. The building seemed to sigh and then the front door blew off its hinges and daylight poured in.
 

“Everyone outside! Now!”
 

The Captain’s order had the guests stumbling out to the courtyard. The fog wall was gone and they could see down to the crumbling fence and the road beyond, but what made them gasp was the sight of an elven host in full battle gear filling the space where the fog used to be.
 

“Holy Mary Mother of God,” the Captain whispered. “I didn’t really…”
 

“Nobody really does until you see them,” Tosh said.
 

“Jack! Tosh!” Gwen ran up, flinging her arms indiscriminately around them. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you!”
 

Jack hugged her. “We’re fine, Gwen.” He looked past her at  the man walking up to them, phone held to one ear.
 

“Yes, Andy? Good. Keep at it. We need all the information we can get on Mr. Manger.” Ianto closed the call and put the phone back in his pocket, grinning at Jack. “You do make…”
 

Whatever else he was going to say was smothered by Jack’s lips. He struggled a little, for form’s sake, then relaxed into the kiss, threading his fingers through Jack’s hair. When their mouths parted they rested their foreheads together, breathing each other’s breaths, reassuring themselves that the other one was there, safe and sound.
 

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” Jack whispered to Ianto. “He reminds me so much of you…”