Sparkling Cosmos {A Torchwood Story Two} [COMPLETED]

2. Damage Control

The five of us arrive in London and, following Jack's direction, enter Canary Wharf, where it's apparent there was a battle of epic proportions.

The Captain has barely spoken; I can tell he's still thinking about this Doctor guy. To be honest, I am too - but only because his name keeps spinning around in my head like the Table of Elements. The only time I'm able to let go of the thought is when Owen looks at me. And that's only because Owen and I have a thing that we need to sort out, like, asap.

The doors don't open; they're already smashed in. We carefully lift everything over the broken glass and begin picking through every room like it's a monastery.
The bodies are all gone: a few hours beforehand, someone had called an ambulance to the building and paramedics had taken everyone out.

There weren't any survivors.

We eventually get to a room full of the machines we had only read about, mass amounts of metal concealing knives and other medical equipment to be used in a way that goes far beyond medical use. I can only imagine the horrifying feeling of being strapped to that chair about to be turned into a Cyber. The horror and pain, screaming though all hope is lost...

I shiver, and Owen glances at me but keeps walking, shining his torch in every corner. I think now he knows for sure we're not all going to die, he's calmed down and is thinking through our situation more. We'll have to discuss it later though - we've got more pressing details at hand.

Jack's voice echoes down the corridor, and we jog along to meet him in a large white room where he's holding up his arm. On it is the silly leather watch that he never uses to tell time, and he's squinting at it and then at the room.
"This is the only room not totally trashed, and it's the highest amount of radiation and particles. The levels and the type of radiation, it's not... Well, it's not from Earth, that's for sure," he says, shutting his watch and turning to us. "This is where the Doctor was, I'm sure of it - and this is where they all disappeared to wherever the aliens are now."

"So, should we block this off for testing, you think?" Tosh asks, and we wait a few moments before Jack looks back at the room and nods. I roll my eyes before I get to work - great, he's in one of his middle-distance mood swings.

I swipe some special stickers from Owen's bag to mark the room and remind us which one it is. As soon as I'm alone, slapping the stickers on the walls, the voices start whispering in my mind again. Doctor... Void... What is it all? And why is it happening to me?

"Torchwood Three?"
"Jesus CHRIST!" I yell out, spinning wildly and taking out my gun to the voice behind me. A man in a blood-spattered black suit raises his hands in surrender and backs a few steps away, a scared look on his face.
I cock the gun. "State your name and intention."
"I-Ianto Jones," the man stutters, his expression growing more scared, "I was in Torchwood One, and-"
"How did you escape the Cybers? Why weren't we told of you as a survivor?" I demand to know, all too wary of people who lie to get what they want.
"I hid, all right!" he says, and it's only then that I detect his Welsh accent. Why is a Welsh man working - well, worked - in the London base?

It doesn't seem right. He seems too scared to be a part of Torchwood.
"Jack," I call out, and he comes running and stops at the sight of the stranger.
"Who are you?" my boss asks, and the man rubs his face in exhaustion.
"I'm Ianto Jones. I worked for Torchwood One, but now..." he gestures to everything mournfully, with a cloudy face, "I don't really know what to do, I just hid until everything was quiet, I... I watched my girlfriend die," he finishes, his cloudy face flicking from me to Jack.

It twists my stomach. His girlfriend, one of Torchwood, died here? And what's he doing here, mourning her in her place of death? No clue.
Jack looks as confused. "You're not used to death, are you Ianto Jones?" The young man shakes his head. "Then what did you do?"
Ianto is quick to jump in: "I was a researcher; not ever really in the field. More computers and running to fetch things. But now... I don't know what to do."

I regard him quietly. I understand, I really do - losing everything, not knowing what's next, it gets to me. It seems to get to Jack, too, but a second after he just turns his back on the man.
"We don't have time for this, Ianto Jones. If you want to speak with us, do so in Wales. Now please get on your way."

His face sinks like pastry, mouth turning down in loss. All I can do is shrug with an apologetic look and go back into the room. I hear footsteps behind me, and when I look over my shoulder I see him walking away and turning right, from where Owen and I just came from.

Back in the room, Owen and Tosh and Suzie are finishing up placing some things on the walls about six feet apart, and Jack is standing in the middle of the room. He's looking at his watch again, like there's something on it.
"Right, team, I'm about to activate the room's memory cache of particle data. Nothing's going to happen, but shield your eyes when it turns on and off."
Everyone but Jack and I close their eyes. I feel an intense pull to the rapid brightness and it doesn't hurt me somehow anyway.

The entire room fills with moving holograms of particles, a new installment Torchwood have been working on to determine the data of historical sites, and they light up in brilliant shapes and colours.
One looks in the shape of a tall outline to the side of the room, seemingly pulling on something with force. A shorter, smaller outline is seen on the other side of the room, though it disappears after a moment, but the most particles come whizzing through the room in outlines of our foes.
"The Cybermen," I breathe out as Toshiko whispers simultaneously, "Daleks."

Looking at them makes the voices in my head rally round more, so I close my eyes and try to shut them out until Jack announces they've stopped, then take my hands off of my head. They're all watching me curiously.
"Evy, what is it?" Owen asks, using the nickname I only hate when it's not him saying it.
I start slowly shaking my head, as if trying to shake the everpresent echoes away. "It's nothing, it's just... I keep hearing things. And the data made it worse."

They just keep looking at me, like I'm a weird specimen of creation. Perhaps I am.

I'm quick to break their concerned expressions, standing up from where I started sitting at some point and saying, "Well, we need to get started on this data."
Everyone agrees and gets to it, but every so often I catch them glancing back at me. It's disconcerting.

I put my hands in my pockets to try and find a screwdriver for a floor door, and something in there burns my hand so I pull it out. My pocket watch? Why is it hot all of a sudden? I reach out a hand to open it, but decide against it when I remember that it broke long ago, so all that would come of opening it would be uncoiled springs and bolts.
"What's that?" I hear behind me, and Tosh sidles up and smiles.
I smile back at her, returning my attention to the screwdriver I found in my other pocket. "Just my watch. I should've thrown it out years ago, but I kind of like it. Doesn't it look pretty?"

She offers a hand to look at it and I give it to her, unbothered. "Careful, it's hot," I warn her, but by how she handles it it's like it's normal again. So odd.
"Love the symbols on it; very... weird," she notes, placing it back in my hand. "Just like you!" she adds, doing the finger guns, and I laugh good naturedly.
"Tosh, love, I don't think any of us are masters at the finger guns," I say, and we both laugh.

She goes back to work and I go to put the watch back in my pocket, but the burning sensation coming from it and the voices telling me to open it for some reason make me just stare at it.

Suddenly, a phrase I've never heard before but sounds familiar echoes in my head:

How do you know it's broken if you've never opened it?

The patterns, the familiarity... how is it all connected?