The Hunt
folder
S through Z › Torchwood
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
17
Views:
2,514
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Torchwood
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
17
Views:
2,514
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Torchwood, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Epilogue
Epilogue
A Community Support Officer had brought Andy the coffee. He curled his fingers around it but it was strangely unsatisfying when he took a sip, almost as if he had been expecting more from it. Still, that might be the taste of the rain on the night air. It was actually nicer than the coffee. Around him was a buzz of activity, but he stood at the line, ready to ward away the public. They didn’t need to know what was in the warehouse behind him, and nor, so it would seem, did he.
Andy sighed and rolled his eyes as the distinctive black SUV rolled up. Even expecting them didn’t detract from the overall feeling that they were just too dramatic to be real. First to come hurrying out was Gwen, apparently doing her own personal impression of Trinity from the Matrix, and Andy watched her walk up to him, then past him without even glancing his way. Well, that hurt, after all the years they’d worked together. Now apparently he was just scenery.
As if to add insult to injury, Captain Jack Harkness bounded past like an over-exuberant puppy, coat trailing out behind him. He probably wore it just to make sure he couldn’t be confused with scenery. Andy shook his head.
About to turn away, someone else breezed past, almost close enough to touch. A man in a suit, and even from behind, the look was so understated that Andy wondered if he belonged with the rest of them at all. But then there was something else about him… Andy struggled to make sense of it and his fingers tightened around the polystyrene in his hand.
Brief and bizarre images of grisly murders filled his mind, and he didn’t know if they were real or if they were imagined, but they were disturbing all the same. Some of them played in his mind like cheap horror videos, and he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as they flooded in. A macabre list appeared, hand written in neat script on paper, a list of names that he knew were victims. He was the cause of it – perhaps even the author – the man in the suit, and there was a sudden inexplicable fear of him in Andy.
There was some jostling next to him as the other two officers made jokes about him and Gwen while he stood there, staring helplessly after the members of Torchwood. He couldn’t tell them it wasn’t Gwen that had him rooted to the spot. He couldn’t tell them anything. And then, as he stood, he realised the man in the suit had stopped moving forward, and was stood still too, facing away from him.
“Oh, God,” Andy breathed, completely against his will, still fighting the waves of nausea as image after image refused to leave him alone. “Don’t turn around,” he whispered to the man silently in utter dread of that very thing, and as if he was heard, the man in the suit tilted his head slightly.
He began to turn around, and Andy backed away into one of his joking colleagues, the cup of coffee falling to the ground and he didn’t even notice. Someone grabbed him, and he became still automatically as the man turned to face him. How he knew the man was turning to look at him, Andy couldn’t say, but he knew it, and he wanted to look away but he didn’t dare. Was this what it was like, coming face to face with a serial killer? Was it a hunch he was experiencing?
“Andy? You okay?” a voice asked, the voice that belonged to the hands that had steadied him. The other officer was concerned now, but Andy couldn’t reply, because the dread he had experienced had undergone a drastic change.
There was steam from the spilt coffee rising at his feet, just as the first drops of heavy warm rain began to fall, and he surged forward, hands on the police tape – and he shouldn’t lean on it, because there was no way it could hold his weight.
The man in the suit was looking at him across the short distance between them, and he wasn’t what Andy had feared at all. He felt such a sudden powerfully intense mixture of protective love, and – strangely – lust, that it took his breath away. It wasn’t his reaction alone either, because there was an answer to his feelings in the other man’s eyes. Andy wanted him so much. Some kind of word was on the edge of his mind, infuriatingly vague. It was a name, and he narrowed his eyes as he watched the man who was stood stock still, just looking back at him.
Someone was speaking. It was the officer, still trying to get his attention, or maybe it was Jack Harkness, because he came to stand behind… who? Andy almost growled in frustration, feeling an equally bizarre flash of jealousy as the Captain dared to take the man in the suit by the hand and distracted him momentarily, taking his attention away from Andy. He knew the Captain was calling the man by name, but he couldn’t quite hear it and he needed to know. The emotions stirring in him were such that he was certain in this isolated moment that all of his happiness depended on being closer, and that he’d given himself away already. Yet, isn’t that what Harkness must be to him? The way they were together… and the jealousy changed to hurt.
The man looked at him again for an instant, and it was with the rain falling heavier between them, getting in the way of his line of vision, and he wanted to wave it away, wanted the man to come one step nearer to have it all make sense. Dared him to do it. Pleaded. Don’t turn around had changed to something different, and now he wanted to beg the other man not to walk away. “Don’t,” he mouthed silently. “Stay.” He saw such a deep hurt in the other man then, and it made no sense at the same time as he felt he understood it. “How long has it been?” he wondered out loud, and he saw Ianto recognise his words because he looked startled. He could lip read. Andy was so lost in the moment, it completely passed him by that he’d remembered Ianto’s name. He wanted to hold out his hands and walk over to him, but he didn’t even dare to breathe for fear the delicate thread that existed between them would be broken.
But Harkness was breaking it anyway, tugging gently on the man’s hand, so gently that it was somehow solicitous, caring, and then he was looking into the Captain’s blue eyes. To say he was stealing a moment from them, he didn’t appear to be all that pleased about it. In fact, he was almost apologetic, and Andy just stared, feeling a shadow of the emotion he’d already felt for the man in the suit. He took in the way that the Captain guided the other man away, and he remembered his first impression of the man, when he’d had all those images in his mind. It troubled him, but he didn’t want to examine it too closely in case they came back. It couldn’t happen again. Perhaps it was for the best. Let Torchwood handle that one.
The entire thing couldn’t have lasted longer than a few seconds, but to Andy it felt like hours had passed, and in the space of those few seconds, he’d (lost his heart) dropped the coffee, which rubbish as it was, was (nowhere near as good as espresso) better than nothing. Worse than that, he was getting wet because the heavens had opened above him.
He turned away, and the Community Support Officer who’d been trying to speak to him backed off with a shake of his head. “You need to get over her, mate,” he advised, slightly patronising, and for a moment Andy didn’t get what he was on about. Oh, Gwen. Andy sighed and shook his head.
“Not much gets past you, does it, Will?” Andy asked, slightly sarcastic, marvelling that he’d completely missed whatever kind of exchange had been between himself, Jack Harkness and the other man. He rolled his eyes. “Keep it up and soon you’ll be a real policeman.” He gave Will a little nod. “CID is full of people like you.” Unfortunately, that last bit wasn’t quite as sarcastic as he wanted it to be and he stalked off to get a replacement for his spilt coffee.
It had been a more unsettling experience than he cared to admit, and that night, Andy had a confusing, erotic nightmare about a list of victims.
He let it go, let it pass, and eventually it did. A fortnight or so later, he couldn’t even recall the nightmare, and put the disturbing experience down to something in the air and the atmosphere that night. Since then, he’d learned there had been some kind of lair in the warehouse from which bodies had been recovered. That’s all it was, just atmosphere, just something to put out of his mind, and over time, Andy forgot all about it.
~ finis ~
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story. Thank you for reading. Please review! :)
A Community Support Officer had brought Andy the coffee. He curled his fingers around it but it was strangely unsatisfying when he took a sip, almost as if he had been expecting more from it. Still, that might be the taste of the rain on the night air. It was actually nicer than the coffee. Around him was a buzz of activity, but he stood at the line, ready to ward away the public. They didn’t need to know what was in the warehouse behind him, and nor, so it would seem, did he.
Andy sighed and rolled his eyes as the distinctive black SUV rolled up. Even expecting them didn’t detract from the overall feeling that they were just too dramatic to be real. First to come hurrying out was Gwen, apparently doing her own personal impression of Trinity from the Matrix, and Andy watched her walk up to him, then past him without even glancing his way. Well, that hurt, after all the years they’d worked together. Now apparently he was just scenery.
As if to add insult to injury, Captain Jack Harkness bounded past like an over-exuberant puppy, coat trailing out behind him. He probably wore it just to make sure he couldn’t be confused with scenery. Andy shook his head.
About to turn away, someone else breezed past, almost close enough to touch. A man in a suit, and even from behind, the look was so understated that Andy wondered if he belonged with the rest of them at all. But then there was something else about him… Andy struggled to make sense of it and his fingers tightened around the polystyrene in his hand.
Brief and bizarre images of grisly murders filled his mind, and he didn’t know if they were real or if they were imagined, but they were disturbing all the same. Some of them played in his mind like cheap horror videos, and he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as they flooded in. A macabre list appeared, hand written in neat script on paper, a list of names that he knew were victims. He was the cause of it – perhaps even the author – the man in the suit, and there was a sudden inexplicable fear of him in Andy.
There was some jostling next to him as the other two officers made jokes about him and Gwen while he stood there, staring helplessly after the members of Torchwood. He couldn’t tell them it wasn’t Gwen that had him rooted to the spot. He couldn’t tell them anything. And then, as he stood, he realised the man in the suit had stopped moving forward, and was stood still too, facing away from him.
“Oh, God,” Andy breathed, completely against his will, still fighting the waves of nausea as image after image refused to leave him alone. “Don’t turn around,” he whispered to the man silently in utter dread of that very thing, and as if he was heard, the man in the suit tilted his head slightly.
He began to turn around, and Andy backed away into one of his joking colleagues, the cup of coffee falling to the ground and he didn’t even notice. Someone grabbed him, and he became still automatically as the man turned to face him. How he knew the man was turning to look at him, Andy couldn’t say, but he knew it, and he wanted to look away but he didn’t dare. Was this what it was like, coming face to face with a serial killer? Was it a hunch he was experiencing?
“Andy? You okay?” a voice asked, the voice that belonged to the hands that had steadied him. The other officer was concerned now, but Andy couldn’t reply, because the dread he had experienced had undergone a drastic change.
There was steam from the spilt coffee rising at his feet, just as the first drops of heavy warm rain began to fall, and he surged forward, hands on the police tape – and he shouldn’t lean on it, because there was no way it could hold his weight.
The man in the suit was looking at him across the short distance between them, and he wasn’t what Andy had feared at all. He felt such a sudden powerfully intense mixture of protective love, and – strangely – lust, that it took his breath away. It wasn’t his reaction alone either, because there was an answer to his feelings in the other man’s eyes. Andy wanted him so much. Some kind of word was on the edge of his mind, infuriatingly vague. It was a name, and he narrowed his eyes as he watched the man who was stood stock still, just looking back at him.
Someone was speaking. It was the officer, still trying to get his attention, or maybe it was Jack Harkness, because he came to stand behind… who? Andy almost growled in frustration, feeling an equally bizarre flash of jealousy as the Captain dared to take the man in the suit by the hand and distracted him momentarily, taking his attention away from Andy. He knew the Captain was calling the man by name, but he couldn’t quite hear it and he needed to know. The emotions stirring in him were such that he was certain in this isolated moment that all of his happiness depended on being closer, and that he’d given himself away already. Yet, isn’t that what Harkness must be to him? The way they were together… and the jealousy changed to hurt.
The man looked at him again for an instant, and it was with the rain falling heavier between them, getting in the way of his line of vision, and he wanted to wave it away, wanted the man to come one step nearer to have it all make sense. Dared him to do it. Pleaded. Don’t turn around had changed to something different, and now he wanted to beg the other man not to walk away. “Don’t,” he mouthed silently. “Stay.” He saw such a deep hurt in the other man then, and it made no sense at the same time as he felt he understood it. “How long has it been?” he wondered out loud, and he saw Ianto recognise his words because he looked startled. He could lip read. Andy was so lost in the moment, it completely passed him by that he’d remembered Ianto’s name. He wanted to hold out his hands and walk over to him, but he didn’t even dare to breathe for fear the delicate thread that existed between them would be broken.
But Harkness was breaking it anyway, tugging gently on the man’s hand, so gently that it was somehow solicitous, caring, and then he was looking into the Captain’s blue eyes. To say he was stealing a moment from them, he didn’t appear to be all that pleased about it. In fact, he was almost apologetic, and Andy just stared, feeling a shadow of the emotion he’d already felt for the man in the suit. He took in the way that the Captain guided the other man away, and he remembered his first impression of the man, when he’d had all those images in his mind. It troubled him, but he didn’t want to examine it too closely in case they came back. It couldn’t happen again. Perhaps it was for the best. Let Torchwood handle that one.
The entire thing couldn’t have lasted longer than a few seconds, but to Andy it felt like hours had passed, and in the space of those few seconds, he’d (lost his heart) dropped the coffee, which rubbish as it was, was (nowhere near as good as espresso) better than nothing. Worse than that, he was getting wet because the heavens had opened above him.
He turned away, and the Community Support Officer who’d been trying to speak to him backed off with a shake of his head. “You need to get over her, mate,” he advised, slightly patronising, and for a moment Andy didn’t get what he was on about. Oh, Gwen. Andy sighed and shook his head.
“Not much gets past you, does it, Will?” Andy asked, slightly sarcastic, marvelling that he’d completely missed whatever kind of exchange had been between himself, Jack Harkness and the other man. He rolled his eyes. “Keep it up and soon you’ll be a real policeman.” He gave Will a little nod. “CID is full of people like you.” Unfortunately, that last bit wasn’t quite as sarcastic as he wanted it to be and he stalked off to get a replacement for his spilt coffee.
It had been a more unsettling experience than he cared to admit, and that night, Andy had a confusing, erotic nightmare about a list of victims.
He let it go, let it pass, and eventually it did. A fortnight or so later, he couldn’t even recall the nightmare, and put the disturbing experience down to something in the air and the atmosphere that night. Since then, he’d learned there had been some kind of lair in the warehouse from which bodies had been recovered. That’s all it was, just atmosphere, just something to put out of his mind, and over time, Andy forgot all about it.
~ finis ~
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story. Thank you for reading. Please review! :)