The Bad Neighbor 4/6
Dec. 18th, 2011 03:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
firesnapPart Three
Rhys Williams was torn at Jack's revelation. Part of him, a large part of him, the overwhelming reaction part of him, wanted to cheer and pump his fist in the air at the revelation that he was right. A few heartbeats later he realized that, while being right is fantastic, he'd left his wife and her best mate in the company of someone not human. Rhys turned to face the club, and then turned to face Jack again. "Then why, exactly, other than to let me relish in being right on about him, are we out here? Are Gwen and Ianto dealing with it?"
Jack mouth twisted into a grimace and he pulled the SUV keys out of his pocket. "Not exactly," he breathed out slowly. The distinctive sound of doors unlocking made Rhys's shoulders tense.
"What do you mean ‘not exactly'? How do you not exactly deal with a… whatever he is."
There was a huff from Jack and the SUV driver door swung open. "In the sense that I'll… we'll… need to rescue them."
If it were possible, Rhys swore he felt his eyes widening as Jack spoke. "Are they – are they okay? Do we need to go back now?"
"Get in, Rhys."
"Well I'm not leaving her here if you think she's in danger! What about Ianto? You going to leave him too? Leave your entire team?"
"Rhys!" Jack's tone brooked no argument as he slid into the driver's seat. "Get in the car. If you want to help me. If you want to help them. Get in the car."
Rhys was torn, and he couldn't help but look back at the club and then at Jack, who was sitting with his hands clenched around the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. Gwen was in there. Jack seemed disturbed enough by whatever the fuck he learned inside-- and fuck him very much for being mysterious and vague about it -- that he wanted to retreat. A metallic taste hit Rhys's tongue and he realized he'd bitten his lip. The slight twinge of pain was enough to refocus his mind. If he wanted to help Gwen, he'd need to work with the only person in Cardiff that had answers to any question involving what to do with someone "not human." Hesitantly, Rhys rounded the front of the vehicle and then climbed into the passenger side.
Once Rhys was in, Jack clicked to engage the door locks and, in typical Torchwood fashion, sped off through the Cardiff streets. Rhys waited a moment, watching the lights of the various businesses and streetlights fly by. Everything looked smeared and surreal to him. At least as surreal as non-humans holding court in a night club. Finally, Rhys exhaled slowly and faced Jack. The American was unusually quiet, and his face was set in a serious expression. "So what is he?"
The curve of Jack's lips couldn't be called a smile. It was too grim and sallow for that. "He's an alien. What did you mean earlier, when you said you were right?"
"I'd told Gwen and Ianto I thought he was an alien." Rhys ducked his head and stared at his hands. "They thought I was seeing things where there wasn't – I think Gwen thought I was trying to make my life more exciting." Rhys looked up. "I just thought, it's Cardiff, they see aliens every day. They'd know more about it."
Jack's ghoulish smile softened into something a little more real. "You'd be surprised. It's easy to expect it when it's at work, or some random attack; it's harder to spot when it invades your life. It's hard to be on the lookout constantly. Occasionally… you just want it to be something normal so much that you can trick yourself into believing it is."
"Yeah. I could see how that happens." There was a long pause. "Jack, what is it? Him? You look like you knew."
"He's an Obyri. I haven't dealt with them, personally, but an organization I was once in did." Jack held up the arm that had his wrist strap. "This recognized him. He's tricky. I wouldn't have caught on to what he was otherwise. We would've figured it out eventually though. I knew something was wrong with Ianto." Jack glanced at
Rhys and lowered his arm. "And Gwen. It was like she wasn't all there, right?"
Rhys nodded. He sucked in his lower lip to hold in the thousand questions roaming through his mind.
"What I don't get," Jack continued, "is how long he's managed to live here. The reason I could pick him up? It's because his kind were tracked down and wiped out. I was taught, we were all taught, you find an Obyri, you get rid of it. I should have been able to detect him before now. "
Rhys knew he looked shocked. This was a side of Jack that he hadn't heard before. This wasn't the flirtatious, smiling man who looked like he'd stepped out of an action movie. This was a hard man next to Rhys. A soldier, or maybe something a little more sinister. Someone who could talk about the omnicide of any creature without batting an eyelid.
"What's an Obyri?"
"Hunters. They hunt and infiltrate other species, like parasites. They find a species, adapt themselves to look like they belong, and feed. I've never met anyone who's seen them in their real form. But they're perfect hunters – everything about them, from their blood to their biology to their ability to change what they feed on, makes them a difficult opponent. So, most of the universe wiped them out. Colonies of Obyri took out whole planets."
"How do you know about this?"
Jack's mouth narrowed into a thin slash across his face. It was like Rhys could physically see him close off from him. "I just do. And there's one here now and he's got his… whatever it is he's got on my team." Jack glanced at Rhys. "And your wife."
It was like cotton in Rhys's mouth and he could hear his heartbeat in his own ears. He didn't want to ask his next questions. He really didn't. He wanted to go home, heat up some leftovers, and wait for Gwen to get back from the pub with Ianto and tell her about how weird Cardiff was. He always felt this way when Gwen was doing something with Torchwood. "What do they do to people?"
"They consume life force. It's different depending on the species. For humans, it's typically blood. The cells that carry energy and nutrients to the body. They steal it."
Rhys laughed. It was loud and filled the SUV with an artificial sense of an amusement. "What? Like a vampire?"
"Legends come from somewhere," Jack shrugged. "It's close enough to be true. Kill them by cutting off the head or fire or destroying their heart."
It took all of Rhys's strength to not hit the dashboard as the hysterical, disbelieving laughter rolled its way out of him and finally died. Once he caught his breath he gulped a few times and steadied himself. "You're telling me that Jerry, my neighbor upstairs, the bloke at the bar, is more or less a designer shirt wearing Dracula?"
"Yeah, yeah. I guess am." Jack answered, at least having the decency to look slightly embarrassed about his response.
"Well," Rhys began as the last bit of shock and hysteria left him. "I have to say, Jerry is a shit name for a vampire."
Now it was Jack's turn to chuckle, and thankfully, that sheen of hardness Rhys had noticed before melted away with the brief merriment.
"So what's he want with Gwen and Ianto?"
"I don't know. A pack, I guess."
"A what? He's a werewolf now?"
Jack's head snapped to the side to look disbelievingly at Rhys. "A... what? No! Those are terrifying an—"
"Jack! The road! Eyes!"
Rhys sighed with relief with Jack's focus went back to the blurring Cardiff streets. "Right," Jack continued. "They live with families. If he's here alone he needs people to help him blend. You never notice a guy with a group of friends and family. You notice the loners."
The SUV screeched to a halt, illegally, near the Millennium Center. Jack jumped out and motioned for Rhys to follow. Rhys looked back in annoyance – Jack wasn't even going to turn off the lights – before following. They didn't head toward the invisible lift Rhys had used during his first visit to the Hub, nor to the garage entrance he'd used during any subsequent trips, but they headed toward the manky tourist office Ianto used to work in. Jack opened the door with his wrist strap and hit the lights. The place was dusty from disuse and the various leaflets and promotional material all seemed a touch out of date. When Jack caught Rhys studying the state of the office, he coughed.
"Ianto hasn't had a lot of time to be here up here since…"
Rhys nodded. Since they'd lost the other two members, Torchwood had since had to reevaluate what was really necessary to keep their ship afloat. Entertaining tourists had been one of the first things to go. Jack reached behind the counter and hit a button and a section of the brick wall behind Rhys sprung open.
"Come on," Jack said as he pushed past. "We need to get some supplies."
Rhys watched Jack go through medical cabinets and armory shelves with a wide-eyed look. He'd only been in the Hub a handful of times. Usually when the team needed food, or quick supplies, or one memorable time when Gwen had locked him in Jack's office because of some weird parasite that had been infecting people, but normally he was ushered out as soon as he'd arrived. Now he looked around and saw the dust gathering in corners, the unused work stations, and the place felt too big and empty. A shell. Most people would be too awed by the high ceilings, the mash of Victorian and modern technology and miss seeing it. It was a little easier to spot when Rhys and Jack were the only souls about. Even the dinosaur Rhys had seen on his first visit was absent.
Rhys was leaning against Gwen's workstation, feeling useless, when Jack reappeared with a duffel bag bulging with loot. "Ready."
Rhys nodded toward the supply bag. "What's that then?"
"Hunting gear. Help for our wayward lambs." Jack dumped the bag on the cluttered work desk and unzipped. Inside were three handguns, a stun gun, a few torches,
and a plastic med-kit case filled with syringes and vials of a dark gold liquid.
Rhys picked up the med-kit and Jack jerked it away again. "So is that a tranq? Drug the bastard and make him fix Gwennie?"
"Not exactly. He's poisoned them. I think. Maybe." Jack shrugged and looked a little sheepish. "I know the procedure for what to do with these things but… I've never dealt with one. He's keeping them drugged. Did you look in Gwen's eyes?"
Rhys's face flushed. He had, but he hadn't thought much about it. He'd thought she'd been pissed. He'd been angry and irrational and not expecting fucking aliens to kidnap his wife for a night clubbing. Rhys shook his head in the negative.
Jack raised an eyebrow, then cleared his throat when Rhys looked back at him in obvious discomfort. "You weren't looking for anything to be wrong. It's okay."
"And you were?"
Jack shrugged. Rhys didn't like that answer. Jack was being tactful. While Rhys had wanted to relish in evidence of Jack being a poor partner, Jack was trying to soften Rhys's own failings.
Rhys looked down at his hands. "So that was an act then? You wanting to go home with him and that girl?"
There was a heavy pause in the room before Jack cleared his throat. "Anyway, Ianto's eyes were… off. Like he was having trouble concentrating. Every time I got his attention he'd look at me and I'd see something struggling and…" Jack waved a hand dramatically in front him. "He'd float off again."
Rhys stiffened his shoulders and took a deep breath. He may not have not known something was wrong with Gwen before, but he'd make up for it now. With a quick jerk, Rhys stole the bag of supplies from Jack and shouldered it himself. "Is he going to hurt Gwen?"
Jack met Rhys's new resolve with a grim expression. "I doubt it. He's using them as a substitute pack. He'll keep them close. Gwen'll be fine," Jack assured him. "However, I'd rather her not spend too much time in his company. She's got enough bad influences, don't you think?"
For the first time in the past few hours, Rhys laughed and actually meant it. He followed Jack out of the Hub and felt a wave of confidence building in him. There really had been an alien, Rhys had caught onto it before two bona fide alien catchers and now he was going off to be the dashing hero and rescue his Gwen. At the SUV, Rhys opened the back door and tossed their supplies in. Jack held up his wrist strap and pointed it toward the tourist center and hit a couple of buttons before jumping into the driver's side of the car. The SUV roared to life and, once Rhys was strapped in, they started away from the Plass. They were off. To be heroes. It was perversely satisfying.
Jack turned rather sharply down one of the quieter Cardiff side streets. It was getting on in the night and the neighborhoods weren't nearly as busy as the areas with bars and restaurants. As it was, Rhys couldn't help thinking things felt good. Rhys was a decent sidekick so far. Maybe not as good as Ianto – he imagined he provided far fewer quips – but it was going well. That was when a figure darted into the middle of the road and stood, defiantly, in the path of the oncoming vehicle.
Jack swore and slammed the brakes. With a screech of protest, the SUV slid across the road half-hazardly before jerking to a stop a few feet from the pedestrian.
Or not a pedestrian, Rhys thought, once the pounding his chest settled enough for him to take stock of himself, he saw Jerry Dandridge standing in the road, grinning at them like a mad man. Jack swore in a language that may not have been English and pointed at Rhys. "Stay inside. Do not leave that seat. Do you understand?"
Rhys nodded.
"Rhys. Say you understand."
"I understand," Rhys mumbled. When Jack's gaze didn't waver, he held up his hands. "I mean it. Won't move my arse a muscle."
Satisfied, Jack exited the vehicle and Rhys heard the automatic locks click into place behind him. Rhys could see from the window the exact moment where the concerned, nervous Jack Harkness vanished and was replaced by the smooth, big smiles and easy charm action hero. There was a roll of the shoulders and a mask fell into place that could fool anyone. It had been fooling Rhys until Jack had started babbling about space-vampires and Gwen and Ianto with a tight, worried expression that had made Rhys's stomach do flips.
Rhys watched as Jack sauntered forward until he was level with the front of the SUV. He had one hand on his hip, a move calculated to reveal the holster secured there. Jack's mouth moved and Rhys could barely hear him. Quickly, he looked at the console on his door and fumbled about until he found a button to lower the window a crack.
"—It's the jawline, I tell people. Once seen, always longed for." Oh good. He'd only missed Jack's flirting. He heard enough of that already.
Jerry smirked at Jack's joke and stuck his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. "That was almost funny, you know? How often does that work for you?"
The smile on Jack's face noticeably dimmed. "Where are Gwen and Ianto?" It was the same question Rhys had been wondering. A scan of the quiet street revealed nothing. It was dark, and Rhys could only make out Jerry and Jack because of the unnatural glow of the street lamp nearby and the lights of the SUV itself.
"They're fine," Jerry sighed with an eye roll. "Keeping the nest warm, as it was. Why wouldn't they be?"
"Because you're controlling them. As far as I know, you could be keeping them around for a snack."
A slightly surprised, and impressed, look crossed Jerry's face. It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. "Ah, see, this is where you have me at a disadvantage. You seem to, somehow, know some of my secrets and I don't know any of yours. This isn't a good way to start a relationship."
"Give them back and we'll have a nice chat for however long you like."
The bark of laughter that filled the street was almost unnaturally loud and it made Rhys flinch. "Come on – Jack, was it? Jack, I've been around long enough that we don't need to waste time with bullshit. I came here thinking you were a jealous boyfriend. Thought I'd give you and your bumbling sidekick over there a scare and get back in time for another drink or two. Now you're coming off as a threat. I don't like threats."
"I'm not threatening you. I'm warning you. Release them or you'll deal with me. And trust me, I'm more trouble than I think you suspect." Jack's hand flexed and he seemed to be struggling with the urge to pull out his Webley then and there.
"And what are you, exactly?" Jerry took a step forward. He paused when Jack's hand twitched, again, toward the gun. "You're not like them. I can smell you now. I didn't realize that was you in the club. Too many bodies."
"I'm pretty unique."
"Yeah," the alien agreed. "I could smell you all over them earlier – the male was practically bathed in it. I didn't know what it was." Jerry inhaled loudly, as if he was trying to soak up the aroma of a freshly baked dessert. "You're exhilarating. Exotic. Something… not from this place. We have that in common."
At this point, while fairly riveted to the drama unfolding in front of him, Rhys made a mental note to find out why his wife smelled like Jack to hostile aliens. It was also fairly obvious that Jack wasn't enjoying Jerry's attentions as much as he normally enjoyed a bit of a come on.
Jack's neck looked tense. It was obvious that Jerry was trying to intimidate Jack or get him to back down. "I told you already – always yearned for. Now, as much as I enjoy any topic that's about me. We're here because we seem to have a conflicting interest."
"Ah, we're arguing over the kids again. So, I've stolen your playmates? What? Do you keep the male under your bed?"
Jack snorted. "Ianto's much more fun on top of it."
"Yeah, I know. They both are."
Rhys surprised himself by snarling at the remark, and caught himself before he tore open the door to smash that smug bastard's face. However, as angry as it made Rhys, that comment apparently broke whatever control Jack had left. He stormed forward, looking every bit the intimidating and angry soldier Rhys saw before, and grabbed the collar of Jerry's shirt. "What are you doing to them?"
The next part surprised Rhys more than anything he'd seen of late – and that was quite a lot. Jerry flipped Jack Harkness away from him like one would deal with an unruly dog. Jack's body slammed into the SUV and Rhys screamed (in what he'd later call a manly fashion) from the shock of it.
Jack rolled off the car and onto the ground, gasping. He stood up, looking a little surprised himself, and balanced himself against the car. "That's quite a punch."
"I didn't punch you. You'll know by your bones breaking when I do that." Jerry leapt forward again, his hand clenched into a fist, and Jack barely dodged out of the way in time. The fist, when it impacted the black paneling of the SUV, left a giant dent and rattled the vehicle. Despite Rhys knowing the thing out there was alien, despite watching it fling Jack like a ragdoll, there was something unsettling about seeing such a human looking creature's attack leave such an inhuman mark. Rhys looked out and caught Jerry's eye. The monster's lips curled in a cold, ghastly fashion and he slammed into the SUV again, causing it to rock on its wheels. Rhys ducked his head, afraid that the glass windshield would be next, but no impact came.
When Rhys managed to peek above the dash, he saw Jack and Jerry grappling near the sidewalk. Jack must have tackled the stronger man when he was distracted, but Jerry was quickly regaining lost ground. They wrestled, and Jerry managed to push Jack away by a few feet. Jack pulled out his Webley and fired a round, then another, before Jerry could attack again. The bullets pushed him back, but didn't seem to faze him otherwise. Jack swore.
Seeing the bullets ineffectively strike Jerry reminded Rhys of the duffel bag of weapons and gear in the backseat. Scrambling, Rhys grabbed the bag from the backseats. Jack had to know what killed the thing; he'd seemed confident of that in the Hub. Rhys unlocked the door pushed it open and held up the bag.
"Jack!"
Jack's head snapped toward Rhys. "Get back inside," he snarled. "Now, Rhys." Rhys slammed the door, still clutching the duffel and feeling adequately chastised, but it was too late. While Jack was distracted, Jerry had yanked a metal pole from the banister of a nearby set of stairs. When Jack turned to confront his opponent again, he was met with the sharp, blinding feeling of metal slamming into his gut. Jack staggered, then dropped to his knees. Jerry chuckled and shoved Jack down on the ground, the bigger man falling onto his side with a gasp of pure pain.
In the SUV, Rhys sat wide-eyed. That'd been his fault. He'd wanted to help, he'd wanted to do something other than play spectator, and now Jack was hurt. Badly. Even if he managed to rescue Gwen and Ianto, they'd both murder him. As Jerry approached Jack, either to finish the job or to torment him, Rhys slammed on the steering wheel, causing the car's horn to blare. Jerry turned to Rhys, and in the light looked more like a predator than anything Rhys had ever seen. His teeth, bared in a hiss, were sharp and it seemed like there were far too many for his mouth. His face had taken on a pointed, gaunt look and his eyes – his eyes were solid black.
Without even looking back at Jack, Jerry started to marched toward Rhys.
"I'm going to take you with me. I'm going to make her watch me drain you, you nosey son of a bitch. Couldn't stay out of my way, could you? "
Rhys stared, open mouthed, and didn't know what do. He didn't know what weapons to use, or how to fight the thing. He was starting to feel like a piece of tinned meat in the SUV. Jerry was just a few feet away when Rhys heard someone yell his name. He looked about, panicked, and spotted Jack Harkness – that beautiful bastard – with a pole still in his stomach and supporting himself against a lamppost.
"Rhys! Gray button. Next to the headlights. Hit it. Now." Jack slumped back toward the ground and Rhys didn't hesitate to leap over the middle console and look for this button. There were lots of buttons. What kind of car needed this many buttons? Then Rhys spotted it; next to the switch for the lamps, there was a triangle shaped gray button.
Before Rhys could hit it, the entire SUV shook and rocked and Rhys looked up with a gasp. Jerry was standing in front of the grill of the vehicle, his hands splayed across the bonnet. "I thought the British were supposed to be these overly polite, standoffish neighbors. You really break the stereotype." The conversational tone coming out of the now translucent and blue tinted lips made Rhys shudder. He fumbled again and pressed the triangular button.
The lights on the front of the car brightened significantly and Jerry howled before staggering back. There was smoke rising from his clothes and patches of his skin were red. Another inhuman scream tore from Jerry's mouth as he hit the ground, trying to roll out of the way of the high beams assaulting his flesh. Rhys watched, horrified himself, as blisters appeared on Jerry's skin. Then, in a strike of bad luck for Rhys and Jack, Jerry rolled out of the beams and stood. Rhys expected a renewed assault. Rhys expected to die, but Jerry was swaying on his feet, as if the encounter had drained him. He glared, bared his fangs again, and snarled before fleeing the scene.
It took a minute for Rhys to catch his breath. Adrenalin buzzed through his veins and caused a slight pounding in his ears that left him feeling light headed. After his heart slowed, Rhys looked outside and saw Jack, still slumped against a lamppost, and swore. He hustled out of the vehicle to the other man, dropping to his knees to inspect the damage.
Jack was dead.
It looked like, before dying, Jack had managed to pull the pole from his chest. The pain and balls that must have taken baffled Rhys. Jack had to have known he'd bleed out, but he'd done it anyway. Now, Rhys knew Jack couldn't die. He'd seen Jack resurrect after that mess with the old warehouse bombing. He'd never die, that's what Gwen had told him. He'd listened on more than a few evenings to Gwen and Ianto exchanging confidences, theories and recollections of Jack's condition. However, he'd never actually been there when Jack died, and that was a different feeling entirely. He was actually dead. His skin was the dull color of a bled out corpse and his body was limp. His eyes were open, glassy and blank, when Rhys came over. Rhys hastily closed them – though he was unsure if that little gesture was for Jack or himself. It was obvious that, until now, Rhys had been confused about the extent of Jack's immortality. Rhys had always suspected that, on top of the resurrection bit, Jack must've had some resilience to death that others didn't. Now he knew. Jack could die like anyone else, but according to Gwen and Ianto, Jack couldn't, ever, stay dead. He was less invincible and more of a perpetual meat shield.
Rhys sat on the sidewalk next to the corpse of Captain Jack Harkness and tried to figure out what to do. This street was quiet now, but the police had to be on their way after the gunshots were fired. He needed to move Jack. He needed to find Gwen. He needed to figure out some way to kill a super-strong space vampire. The to-do list was far too long and Rhys's shoulders sagged. He would never complain about his job being a dull ever again. He'd work in transport for the rest of his days and find it exciting, he pledged to himself.
Just then, a piercing gasp burst forth from Jack's previously dead lips. Rhys jumped back a little and Jack squirmed and thrashed, disorientated, before grabbing the lamppost to steady himself. Jack took a few more deep breaths and looked at Rhys with wide eyes. Coming back to life looked fairly painful to Rhys. Before, he'd assumed it was the result of Jack having a building collapse on him. Apparently the pain was par for the course.
"You stayed," Jack breathed out. He looked relieved.
Rhys nodded. "I didn't know what else to do. We need to get Gwen."
"Jerry?"
"Got away. What the hell was with those lights?"
Jack pulled himself upright and jumped to his feet with only a slight touch of wobble to him. "UV Lights. We had them installed about two years ago. You'd be surprised how many creatures that fall through the rift are sensitive to sunlight. If the day doesn't fry them, we take care of them at night."
Rhys said nothing. He was unsure of how to respond to that. It baffled him at times that Torchwood, or any organization, could exist that had protocols for "dangerous creatures that don't like the sun" like his own job had procedures for deliveries involving liquids. "I'm sorry," Rhys said finally. "About the… you know. I didn't mean to make you holey." Rhys gestured at Jack's shirt, which was bloody and had a hole in front of it. The skin beneath the rip was smooth and unblemished.
It was Jack's turn to nod now. He opened the driver door and faced Rhys with a serious expression. "I'm going to need your help," he said stonily. "Gwen is going to need your help. However, if you ever disobey orders like that again, I'll feed you to Ianto's damned dinosaur. Got it?"
Rhys responded in the affirmative and slid into the passenger seat. He clicked his seatbelt to fasten and stared out at the dark Cardiff night. Torchwood was difficult. Not for the first time, Rhys wondered what Gwen's training must have been like. It must have been intensive and, poor lass, she had been forced to keep it all a secret.
"What do we do now?"
Jack winced when his own seatbelt caused the cold, blood soaked fabric of his shirt to press closer to his skin. "We check out his last known location. Figure out where Gwen and Ianto went from there. Then we kill him. Good plan?"
"Brilliant."
Part Five
Rhys Williams was torn at Jack's revelation. Part of him, a large part of him, the overwhelming reaction part of him, wanted to cheer and pump his fist in the air at the revelation that he was right. A few heartbeats later he realized that, while being right is fantastic, he'd left his wife and her best mate in the company of someone not human. Rhys turned to face the club, and then turned to face Jack again. "Then why, exactly, other than to let me relish in being right on about him, are we out here? Are Gwen and Ianto dealing with it?"
Jack mouth twisted into a grimace and he pulled the SUV keys out of his pocket. "Not exactly," he breathed out slowly. The distinctive sound of doors unlocking made Rhys's shoulders tense.
"What do you mean ‘not exactly'? How do you not exactly deal with a… whatever he is."
There was a huff from Jack and the SUV driver door swung open. "In the sense that I'll… we'll… need to rescue them."
If it were possible, Rhys swore he felt his eyes widening as Jack spoke. "Are they – are they okay? Do we need to go back now?"
"Get in, Rhys."
"Well I'm not leaving her here if you think she's in danger! What about Ianto? You going to leave him too? Leave your entire team?"
"Rhys!" Jack's tone brooked no argument as he slid into the driver's seat. "Get in the car. If you want to help me. If you want to help them. Get in the car."
Rhys was torn, and he couldn't help but look back at the club and then at Jack, who was sitting with his hands clenched around the steering wheel, staring straight ahead. Gwen was in there. Jack seemed disturbed enough by whatever the fuck he learned inside-- and fuck him very much for being mysterious and vague about it -- that he wanted to retreat. A metallic taste hit Rhys's tongue and he realized he'd bitten his lip. The slight twinge of pain was enough to refocus his mind. If he wanted to help Gwen, he'd need to work with the only person in Cardiff that had answers to any question involving what to do with someone "not human." Hesitantly, Rhys rounded the front of the vehicle and then climbed into the passenger side.
Once Rhys was in, Jack clicked to engage the door locks and, in typical Torchwood fashion, sped off through the Cardiff streets. Rhys waited a moment, watching the lights of the various businesses and streetlights fly by. Everything looked smeared and surreal to him. At least as surreal as non-humans holding court in a night club. Finally, Rhys exhaled slowly and faced Jack. The American was unusually quiet, and his face was set in a serious expression. "So what is he?"
The curve of Jack's lips couldn't be called a smile. It was too grim and sallow for that. "He's an alien. What did you mean earlier, when you said you were right?"
"I'd told Gwen and Ianto I thought he was an alien." Rhys ducked his head and stared at his hands. "They thought I was seeing things where there wasn't – I think Gwen thought I was trying to make my life more exciting." Rhys looked up. "I just thought, it's Cardiff, they see aliens every day. They'd know more about it."
Jack's ghoulish smile softened into something a little more real. "You'd be surprised. It's easy to expect it when it's at work, or some random attack; it's harder to spot when it invades your life. It's hard to be on the lookout constantly. Occasionally… you just want it to be something normal so much that you can trick yourself into believing it is."
"Yeah. I could see how that happens." There was a long pause. "Jack, what is it? Him? You look like you knew."
"He's an Obyri. I haven't dealt with them, personally, but an organization I was once in did." Jack held up the arm that had his wrist strap. "This recognized him. He's tricky. I wouldn't have caught on to what he was otherwise. We would've figured it out eventually though. I knew something was wrong with Ianto." Jack glanced at
Rhys and lowered his arm. "And Gwen. It was like she wasn't all there, right?"
Rhys nodded. He sucked in his lower lip to hold in the thousand questions roaming through his mind.
"What I don't get," Jack continued, "is how long he's managed to live here. The reason I could pick him up? It's because his kind were tracked down and wiped out. I was taught, we were all taught, you find an Obyri, you get rid of it. I should have been able to detect him before now. "
Rhys knew he looked shocked. This was a side of Jack that he hadn't heard before. This wasn't the flirtatious, smiling man who looked like he'd stepped out of an action movie. This was a hard man next to Rhys. A soldier, or maybe something a little more sinister. Someone who could talk about the omnicide of any creature without batting an eyelid.
"What's an Obyri?"
"Hunters. They hunt and infiltrate other species, like parasites. They find a species, adapt themselves to look like they belong, and feed. I've never met anyone who's seen them in their real form. But they're perfect hunters – everything about them, from their blood to their biology to their ability to change what they feed on, makes them a difficult opponent. So, most of the universe wiped them out. Colonies of Obyri took out whole planets."
"How do you know about this?"
Jack's mouth narrowed into a thin slash across his face. It was like Rhys could physically see him close off from him. "I just do. And there's one here now and he's got his… whatever it is he's got on my team." Jack glanced at Rhys. "And your wife."
It was like cotton in Rhys's mouth and he could hear his heartbeat in his own ears. He didn't want to ask his next questions. He really didn't. He wanted to go home, heat up some leftovers, and wait for Gwen to get back from the pub with Ianto and tell her about how weird Cardiff was. He always felt this way when Gwen was doing something with Torchwood. "What do they do to people?"
"They consume life force. It's different depending on the species. For humans, it's typically blood. The cells that carry energy and nutrients to the body. They steal it."
Rhys laughed. It was loud and filled the SUV with an artificial sense of an amusement. "What? Like a vampire?"
"Legends come from somewhere," Jack shrugged. "It's close enough to be true. Kill them by cutting off the head or fire or destroying their heart."
It took all of Rhys's strength to not hit the dashboard as the hysterical, disbelieving laughter rolled its way out of him and finally died. Once he caught his breath he gulped a few times and steadied himself. "You're telling me that Jerry, my neighbor upstairs, the bloke at the bar, is more or less a designer shirt wearing Dracula?"
"Yeah, yeah. I guess am." Jack answered, at least having the decency to look slightly embarrassed about his response.
"Well," Rhys began as the last bit of shock and hysteria left him. "I have to say, Jerry is a shit name for a vampire."
Now it was Jack's turn to chuckle, and thankfully, that sheen of hardness Rhys had noticed before melted away with the brief merriment.
"So what's he want with Gwen and Ianto?"
"I don't know. A pack, I guess."
"A what? He's a werewolf now?"
Jack's head snapped to the side to look disbelievingly at Rhys. "A... what? No! Those are terrifying an—"
"Jack! The road! Eyes!"
Rhys sighed with relief with Jack's focus went back to the blurring Cardiff streets. "Right," Jack continued. "They live with families. If he's here alone he needs people to help him blend. You never notice a guy with a group of friends and family. You notice the loners."
The SUV screeched to a halt, illegally, near the Millennium Center. Jack jumped out and motioned for Rhys to follow. Rhys looked back in annoyance – Jack wasn't even going to turn off the lights – before following. They didn't head toward the invisible lift Rhys had used during his first visit to the Hub, nor to the garage entrance he'd used during any subsequent trips, but they headed toward the manky tourist office Ianto used to work in. Jack opened the door with his wrist strap and hit the lights. The place was dusty from disuse and the various leaflets and promotional material all seemed a touch out of date. When Jack caught Rhys studying the state of the office, he coughed.
"Ianto hasn't had a lot of time to be here up here since…"
Rhys nodded. Since they'd lost the other two members, Torchwood had since had to reevaluate what was really necessary to keep their ship afloat. Entertaining tourists had been one of the first things to go. Jack reached behind the counter and hit a button and a section of the brick wall behind Rhys sprung open.
"Come on," Jack said as he pushed past. "We need to get some supplies."
Rhys watched Jack go through medical cabinets and armory shelves with a wide-eyed look. He'd only been in the Hub a handful of times. Usually when the team needed food, or quick supplies, or one memorable time when Gwen had locked him in Jack's office because of some weird parasite that had been infecting people, but normally he was ushered out as soon as he'd arrived. Now he looked around and saw the dust gathering in corners, the unused work stations, and the place felt too big and empty. A shell. Most people would be too awed by the high ceilings, the mash of Victorian and modern technology and miss seeing it. It was a little easier to spot when Rhys and Jack were the only souls about. Even the dinosaur Rhys had seen on his first visit was absent.
Rhys was leaning against Gwen's workstation, feeling useless, when Jack reappeared with a duffel bag bulging with loot. "Ready."
Rhys nodded toward the supply bag. "What's that then?"
"Hunting gear. Help for our wayward lambs." Jack dumped the bag on the cluttered work desk and unzipped. Inside were three handguns, a stun gun, a few torches,
and a plastic med-kit case filled with syringes and vials of a dark gold liquid.
Rhys picked up the med-kit and Jack jerked it away again. "So is that a tranq? Drug the bastard and make him fix Gwennie?"
"Not exactly. He's poisoned them. I think. Maybe." Jack shrugged and looked a little sheepish. "I know the procedure for what to do with these things but… I've never dealt with one. He's keeping them drugged. Did you look in Gwen's eyes?"
Rhys's face flushed. He had, but he hadn't thought much about it. He'd thought she'd been pissed. He'd been angry and irrational and not expecting fucking aliens to kidnap his wife for a night clubbing. Rhys shook his head in the negative.
Jack raised an eyebrow, then cleared his throat when Rhys looked back at him in obvious discomfort. "You weren't looking for anything to be wrong. It's okay."
"And you were?"
Jack shrugged. Rhys didn't like that answer. Jack was being tactful. While Rhys had wanted to relish in evidence of Jack being a poor partner, Jack was trying to soften Rhys's own failings.
Rhys looked down at his hands. "So that was an act then? You wanting to go home with him and that girl?"
There was a heavy pause in the room before Jack cleared his throat. "Anyway, Ianto's eyes were… off. Like he was having trouble concentrating. Every time I got his attention he'd look at me and I'd see something struggling and…" Jack waved a hand dramatically in front him. "He'd float off again."
Rhys stiffened his shoulders and took a deep breath. He may not have not known something was wrong with Gwen before, but he'd make up for it now. With a quick jerk, Rhys stole the bag of supplies from Jack and shouldered it himself. "Is he going to hurt Gwen?"
Jack met Rhys's new resolve with a grim expression. "I doubt it. He's using them as a substitute pack. He'll keep them close. Gwen'll be fine," Jack assured him. "However, I'd rather her not spend too much time in his company. She's got enough bad influences, don't you think?"
For the first time in the past few hours, Rhys laughed and actually meant it. He followed Jack out of the Hub and felt a wave of confidence building in him. There really had been an alien, Rhys had caught onto it before two bona fide alien catchers and now he was going off to be the dashing hero and rescue his Gwen. At the SUV, Rhys opened the back door and tossed their supplies in. Jack held up his wrist strap and pointed it toward the tourist center and hit a couple of buttons before jumping into the driver's side of the car. The SUV roared to life and, once Rhys was strapped in, they started away from the Plass. They were off. To be heroes. It was perversely satisfying.
Jack turned rather sharply down one of the quieter Cardiff side streets. It was getting on in the night and the neighborhoods weren't nearly as busy as the areas with bars and restaurants. As it was, Rhys couldn't help thinking things felt good. Rhys was a decent sidekick so far. Maybe not as good as Ianto – he imagined he provided far fewer quips – but it was going well. That was when a figure darted into the middle of the road and stood, defiantly, in the path of the oncoming vehicle.
Jack swore and slammed the brakes. With a screech of protest, the SUV slid across the road half-hazardly before jerking to a stop a few feet from the pedestrian.
Or not a pedestrian, Rhys thought, once the pounding his chest settled enough for him to take stock of himself, he saw Jerry Dandridge standing in the road, grinning at them like a mad man. Jack swore in a language that may not have been English and pointed at Rhys. "Stay inside. Do not leave that seat. Do you understand?"
Rhys nodded.
"Rhys. Say you understand."
"I understand," Rhys mumbled. When Jack's gaze didn't waver, he held up his hands. "I mean it. Won't move my arse a muscle."
Satisfied, Jack exited the vehicle and Rhys heard the automatic locks click into place behind him. Rhys could see from the window the exact moment where the concerned, nervous Jack Harkness vanished and was replaced by the smooth, big smiles and easy charm action hero. There was a roll of the shoulders and a mask fell into place that could fool anyone. It had been fooling Rhys until Jack had started babbling about space-vampires and Gwen and Ianto with a tight, worried expression that had made Rhys's stomach do flips.
Rhys watched as Jack sauntered forward until he was level with the front of the SUV. He had one hand on his hip, a move calculated to reveal the holster secured there. Jack's mouth moved and Rhys could barely hear him. Quickly, he looked at the console on his door and fumbled about until he found a button to lower the window a crack.
"—It's the jawline, I tell people. Once seen, always longed for." Oh good. He'd only missed Jack's flirting. He heard enough of that already.
Jerry smirked at Jack's joke and stuck his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. "That was almost funny, you know? How often does that work for you?"
The smile on Jack's face noticeably dimmed. "Where are Gwen and Ianto?" It was the same question Rhys had been wondering. A scan of the quiet street revealed nothing. It was dark, and Rhys could only make out Jerry and Jack because of the unnatural glow of the street lamp nearby and the lights of the SUV itself.
"They're fine," Jerry sighed with an eye roll. "Keeping the nest warm, as it was. Why wouldn't they be?"
"Because you're controlling them. As far as I know, you could be keeping them around for a snack."
A slightly surprised, and impressed, look crossed Jerry's face. It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared. "Ah, see, this is where you have me at a disadvantage. You seem to, somehow, know some of my secrets and I don't know any of yours. This isn't a good way to start a relationship."
"Give them back and we'll have a nice chat for however long you like."
The bark of laughter that filled the street was almost unnaturally loud and it made Rhys flinch. "Come on – Jack, was it? Jack, I've been around long enough that we don't need to waste time with bullshit. I came here thinking you were a jealous boyfriend. Thought I'd give you and your bumbling sidekick over there a scare and get back in time for another drink or two. Now you're coming off as a threat. I don't like threats."
"I'm not threatening you. I'm warning you. Release them or you'll deal with me. And trust me, I'm more trouble than I think you suspect." Jack's hand flexed and he seemed to be struggling with the urge to pull out his Webley then and there.
"And what are you, exactly?" Jerry took a step forward. He paused when Jack's hand twitched, again, toward the gun. "You're not like them. I can smell you now. I didn't realize that was you in the club. Too many bodies."
"I'm pretty unique."
"Yeah," the alien agreed. "I could smell you all over them earlier – the male was practically bathed in it. I didn't know what it was." Jerry inhaled loudly, as if he was trying to soak up the aroma of a freshly baked dessert. "You're exhilarating. Exotic. Something… not from this place. We have that in common."
At this point, while fairly riveted to the drama unfolding in front of him, Rhys made a mental note to find out why his wife smelled like Jack to hostile aliens. It was also fairly obvious that Jack wasn't enjoying Jerry's attentions as much as he normally enjoyed a bit of a come on.
Jack's neck looked tense. It was obvious that Jerry was trying to intimidate Jack or get him to back down. "I told you already – always yearned for. Now, as much as I enjoy any topic that's about me. We're here because we seem to have a conflicting interest."
"Ah, we're arguing over the kids again. So, I've stolen your playmates? What? Do you keep the male under your bed?"
Jack snorted. "Ianto's much more fun on top of it."
"Yeah, I know. They both are."
Rhys surprised himself by snarling at the remark, and caught himself before he tore open the door to smash that smug bastard's face. However, as angry as it made Rhys, that comment apparently broke whatever control Jack had left. He stormed forward, looking every bit the intimidating and angry soldier Rhys saw before, and grabbed the collar of Jerry's shirt. "What are you doing to them?"
The next part surprised Rhys more than anything he'd seen of late – and that was quite a lot. Jerry flipped Jack Harkness away from him like one would deal with an unruly dog. Jack's body slammed into the SUV and Rhys screamed (in what he'd later call a manly fashion) from the shock of it.
Jack rolled off the car and onto the ground, gasping. He stood up, looking a little surprised himself, and balanced himself against the car. "That's quite a punch."
"I didn't punch you. You'll know by your bones breaking when I do that." Jerry leapt forward again, his hand clenched into a fist, and Jack barely dodged out of the way in time. The fist, when it impacted the black paneling of the SUV, left a giant dent and rattled the vehicle. Despite Rhys knowing the thing out there was alien, despite watching it fling Jack like a ragdoll, there was something unsettling about seeing such a human looking creature's attack leave such an inhuman mark. Rhys looked out and caught Jerry's eye. The monster's lips curled in a cold, ghastly fashion and he slammed into the SUV again, causing it to rock on its wheels. Rhys ducked his head, afraid that the glass windshield would be next, but no impact came.
When Rhys managed to peek above the dash, he saw Jack and Jerry grappling near the sidewalk. Jack must have tackled the stronger man when he was distracted, but Jerry was quickly regaining lost ground. They wrestled, and Jerry managed to push Jack away by a few feet. Jack pulled out his Webley and fired a round, then another, before Jerry could attack again. The bullets pushed him back, but didn't seem to faze him otherwise. Jack swore.
Seeing the bullets ineffectively strike Jerry reminded Rhys of the duffel bag of weapons and gear in the backseat. Scrambling, Rhys grabbed the bag from the backseats. Jack had to know what killed the thing; he'd seemed confident of that in the Hub. Rhys unlocked the door pushed it open and held up the bag.
"Jack!"
Jack's head snapped toward Rhys. "Get back inside," he snarled. "Now, Rhys." Rhys slammed the door, still clutching the duffel and feeling adequately chastised, but it was too late. While Jack was distracted, Jerry had yanked a metal pole from the banister of a nearby set of stairs. When Jack turned to confront his opponent again, he was met with the sharp, blinding feeling of metal slamming into his gut. Jack staggered, then dropped to his knees. Jerry chuckled and shoved Jack down on the ground, the bigger man falling onto his side with a gasp of pure pain.
In the SUV, Rhys sat wide-eyed. That'd been his fault. He'd wanted to help, he'd wanted to do something other than play spectator, and now Jack was hurt. Badly. Even if he managed to rescue Gwen and Ianto, they'd both murder him. As Jerry approached Jack, either to finish the job or to torment him, Rhys slammed on the steering wheel, causing the car's horn to blare. Jerry turned to Rhys, and in the light looked more like a predator than anything Rhys had ever seen. His teeth, bared in a hiss, were sharp and it seemed like there were far too many for his mouth. His face had taken on a pointed, gaunt look and his eyes – his eyes were solid black.
Without even looking back at Jack, Jerry started to marched toward Rhys.
"I'm going to take you with me. I'm going to make her watch me drain you, you nosey son of a bitch. Couldn't stay out of my way, could you? "
Rhys stared, open mouthed, and didn't know what do. He didn't know what weapons to use, or how to fight the thing. He was starting to feel like a piece of tinned meat in the SUV. Jerry was just a few feet away when Rhys heard someone yell his name. He looked about, panicked, and spotted Jack Harkness – that beautiful bastard – with a pole still in his stomach and supporting himself against a lamppost.
"Rhys! Gray button. Next to the headlights. Hit it. Now." Jack slumped back toward the ground and Rhys didn't hesitate to leap over the middle console and look for this button. There were lots of buttons. What kind of car needed this many buttons? Then Rhys spotted it; next to the switch for the lamps, there was a triangle shaped gray button.
Before Rhys could hit it, the entire SUV shook and rocked and Rhys looked up with a gasp. Jerry was standing in front of the grill of the vehicle, his hands splayed across the bonnet. "I thought the British were supposed to be these overly polite, standoffish neighbors. You really break the stereotype." The conversational tone coming out of the now translucent and blue tinted lips made Rhys shudder. He fumbled again and pressed the triangular button.
The lights on the front of the car brightened significantly and Jerry howled before staggering back. There was smoke rising from his clothes and patches of his skin were red. Another inhuman scream tore from Jerry's mouth as he hit the ground, trying to roll out of the way of the high beams assaulting his flesh. Rhys watched, horrified himself, as blisters appeared on Jerry's skin. Then, in a strike of bad luck for Rhys and Jack, Jerry rolled out of the beams and stood. Rhys expected a renewed assault. Rhys expected to die, but Jerry was swaying on his feet, as if the encounter had drained him. He glared, bared his fangs again, and snarled before fleeing the scene.
It took a minute for Rhys to catch his breath. Adrenalin buzzed through his veins and caused a slight pounding in his ears that left him feeling light headed. After his heart slowed, Rhys looked outside and saw Jack, still slumped against a lamppost, and swore. He hustled out of the vehicle to the other man, dropping to his knees to inspect the damage.
Jack was dead.
It looked like, before dying, Jack had managed to pull the pole from his chest. The pain and balls that must have taken baffled Rhys. Jack had to have known he'd bleed out, but he'd done it anyway. Now, Rhys knew Jack couldn't die. He'd seen Jack resurrect after that mess with the old warehouse bombing. He'd never die, that's what Gwen had told him. He'd listened on more than a few evenings to Gwen and Ianto exchanging confidences, theories and recollections of Jack's condition. However, he'd never actually been there when Jack died, and that was a different feeling entirely. He was actually dead. His skin was the dull color of a bled out corpse and his body was limp. His eyes were open, glassy and blank, when Rhys came over. Rhys hastily closed them – though he was unsure if that little gesture was for Jack or himself. It was obvious that, until now, Rhys had been confused about the extent of Jack's immortality. Rhys had always suspected that, on top of the resurrection bit, Jack must've had some resilience to death that others didn't. Now he knew. Jack could die like anyone else, but according to Gwen and Ianto, Jack couldn't, ever, stay dead. He was less invincible and more of a perpetual meat shield.
Rhys sat on the sidewalk next to the corpse of Captain Jack Harkness and tried to figure out what to do. This street was quiet now, but the police had to be on their way after the gunshots were fired. He needed to move Jack. He needed to find Gwen. He needed to figure out some way to kill a super-strong space vampire. The to-do list was far too long and Rhys's shoulders sagged. He would never complain about his job being a dull ever again. He'd work in transport for the rest of his days and find it exciting, he pledged to himself.
Just then, a piercing gasp burst forth from Jack's previously dead lips. Rhys jumped back a little and Jack squirmed and thrashed, disorientated, before grabbing the lamppost to steady himself. Jack took a few more deep breaths and looked at Rhys with wide eyes. Coming back to life looked fairly painful to Rhys. Before, he'd assumed it was the result of Jack having a building collapse on him. Apparently the pain was par for the course.
"You stayed," Jack breathed out. He looked relieved.
Rhys nodded. "I didn't know what else to do. We need to get Gwen."
"Jerry?"
"Got away. What the hell was with those lights?"
Jack pulled himself upright and jumped to his feet with only a slight touch of wobble to him. "UV Lights. We had them installed about two years ago. You'd be surprised how many creatures that fall through the rift are sensitive to sunlight. If the day doesn't fry them, we take care of them at night."
Rhys said nothing. He was unsure of how to respond to that. It baffled him at times that Torchwood, or any organization, could exist that had protocols for "dangerous creatures that don't like the sun" like his own job had procedures for deliveries involving liquids. "I'm sorry," Rhys said finally. "About the… you know. I didn't mean to make you holey." Rhys gestured at Jack's shirt, which was bloody and had a hole in front of it. The skin beneath the rip was smooth and unblemished.
It was Jack's turn to nod now. He opened the driver door and faced Rhys with a serious expression. "I'm going to need your help," he said stonily. "Gwen is going to need your help. However, if you ever disobey orders like that again, I'll feed you to Ianto's damned dinosaur. Got it?"
Rhys responded in the affirmative and slid into the passenger seat. He clicked his seatbelt to fasten and stared out at the dark Cardiff night. Torchwood was difficult. Not for the first time, Rhys wondered what Gwen's training must have been like. It must have been intensive and, poor lass, she had been forced to keep it all a secret.
"What do we do now?"
Jack winced when his own seatbelt caused the cold, blood soaked fabric of his shirt to press closer to his skin. "We check out his last known location. Figure out where Gwen and Ianto went from there. Then we kill him. Good plan?"
"Brilliant."
Part Five
