Fandomweekly Challenge 166 - Harsh reality
Apr. 1st, 2024 04:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
m_findlowTitle: Harsh reality
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Gwen
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG.
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 166 - Loneliness at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomweekly
Summary: Gwen is cut adrift from the world which once seemed so huge.
‘Where are you off?’ Rhys asked, spotting his wife heading for their front door.
‘Just out,’ she replied. ‘Thought I'd do a bit of gardening.’
‘Aye,’ Rhys replied, sounding as if he didn't believe her for one second. ‘Well, just so long as it isn't to go scour the beach for aliens.’
‘I promise if I find any, I'll let you be the first one to say hello. Or point guns.’
He chuckled at her wry humour and padded off. ‘Tell ‘em there's no Torchwood here!’ he called back.
No Torchwood here, she thought as she pushed open the door and stepped outside. No Torchwood anywhere. Just her and Rhys, she reminded herself as she picked up a bucket and a pair of secateurs near the front step and wound her way through the overgrown garden. It was amazing anything grew here facing the Welsh coastline, completely unsheltered from the bracing salty winds and sand. It was rugged, no doubt about it, but there was something Gwen liked about the place.
She'd been a lot of places lately, all of them bordering on what she'd describe as basic accommodations. Torchwood had dozens of safe houses dotted all over Wales. After the chaos had subsided, she'd returned to the ruins of their former base of operations. It broke her heart seeing that big crater in the middle of Roald Dahl Plass so she'd avoided it. She used a back entrance to the hub – one that hadn't suffered from the ravages of the explosion – and headed down toward their archives. What she was looking for had thankfully survived, though there was a pang of unimaginable guilt as she pawed through the desk drawer of her dear, now dead, friend, finding the box full of keys. ‘I'm sorry,’ she'd whispered as she tucked the box under her arm and left, never to return.
Every key had an address. This one had been more vague than most. There were no streets, or roads with names, just a name - Glencoedd. Isolated had been what they were looking for. Somewhere no one would find them. This place fit the bill nicely. Maybe they might even stay here a while rather than moving on. A home by the sea might be nice for a small child to enjoy growing up. She couldn't keep moving them on every five minutes out of paranoia for their safety. There were too many places they'd been already that they couldn't go back to. Eventually they were going to run out of keys.
Gwen marched down to the rickety front fence. It might have fallen apart from being exposed to the elements year's ago but for the roses that held it together. They were gnarly things, more thorns than flowers, but with a bit of care maybe they could be beautiful again. She didn't know much about gardening, which Rhys constantly reminded her, but it gave her something to do. She sucked in a breath and blew it back out again, just relieved to be out of the house. She was going crazy in there and had to get out. She loved Rhys, but there was only so much of them being together she could take.
She took the first branch and began clipping at it, finding a rhythm in the monotony of it. She’d tame them if it was the last thing she did. No one messed with Gwen Cooper.
How had her life become this? Constantly on the run from the government that may or may not still want her dead. There was no telling what they might do. Perhaps with enough time they'd forget all about her, or at least realise that Torchwood were no longer a threat to them. How could it be? It was only her now. Jack was gone and everyone else was dead. No one knew where they were. All they had to connect them with the outside world was a single prepaid mobile phone, and only five people had the number: her parents, Rhys' parents and Andy.
Eventually she was going to have to come out of hiding. There was no way she was having this baby without doctors and nurses there. Even then she had a plan to get in and get out as quickly as possible. No names, just deliver the baby and go, even if Rhys had to steal it out from the nursery himself, whilst she evaded the nurses station.
She had Rhys, and she had their unborn child, yet she couldn't shake the sensation of feeling utterly alone. Torchwood had been her whole life before now. Just the thought of waking up and knowing that there was no rush to get dressed, no Jack Harkness showing up at her door at four in the morning looking like he'd had a full night's sleep, shower and a three course breakfast, coming to collect her to help him avert the next planetary crisis. There was no hub to go to, no Ianto there to serve her coffee with a smile and a sense of dry wit whilst briefing her on the overnight reading and the forecast for the rest of the day.
No friends, Gwen thought bitterly as a rose thorn pricked her hand, making her swipe angrily at it with her secateurs and cutting the offending branch off in revenge. Jack and Ianto and Rhys had become the entirety of her insular little world. She’d always thought her life was huge, seeing all the wonders of the universe that crossed their paths and thinking how lucky she was that so few people got to see the things she did. Only now did she realise that whilst her horizons had been broadened by the wonder of it all that her own existence had shrunk, almost to nothing.
Not nothing, she told herself out loud, resting one hand protectively over her belly. There was still something worth fighting for and she wouldn’t let anyone come between her and those she still had.
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Gwen
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG.
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: None
Author notes: Written for Challenge 166 - Loneliness at
fandomweekly Summary: Gwen is cut adrift from the world which once seemed so huge.
‘Where are you off?’ Rhys asked, spotting his wife heading for their front door.
‘Just out,’ she replied. ‘Thought I'd do a bit of gardening.’
‘Aye,’ Rhys replied, sounding as if he didn't believe her for one second. ‘Well, just so long as it isn't to go scour the beach for aliens.’
‘I promise if I find any, I'll let you be the first one to say hello. Or point guns.’
He chuckled at her wry humour and padded off. ‘Tell ‘em there's no Torchwood here!’ he called back.
No Torchwood here, she thought as she pushed open the door and stepped outside. No Torchwood anywhere. Just her and Rhys, she reminded herself as she picked up a bucket and a pair of secateurs near the front step and wound her way through the overgrown garden. It was amazing anything grew here facing the Welsh coastline, completely unsheltered from the bracing salty winds and sand. It was rugged, no doubt about it, but there was something Gwen liked about the place.
She'd been a lot of places lately, all of them bordering on what she'd describe as basic accommodations. Torchwood had dozens of safe houses dotted all over Wales. After the chaos had subsided, she'd returned to the ruins of their former base of operations. It broke her heart seeing that big crater in the middle of Roald Dahl Plass so she'd avoided it. She used a back entrance to the hub – one that hadn't suffered from the ravages of the explosion – and headed down toward their archives. What she was looking for had thankfully survived, though there was a pang of unimaginable guilt as she pawed through the desk drawer of her dear, now dead, friend, finding the box full of keys. ‘I'm sorry,’ she'd whispered as she tucked the box under her arm and left, never to return.
Every key had an address. This one had been more vague than most. There were no streets, or roads with names, just a name - Glencoedd. Isolated had been what they were looking for. Somewhere no one would find them. This place fit the bill nicely. Maybe they might even stay here a while rather than moving on. A home by the sea might be nice for a small child to enjoy growing up. She couldn't keep moving them on every five minutes out of paranoia for their safety. There were too many places they'd been already that they couldn't go back to. Eventually they were going to run out of keys.
Gwen marched down to the rickety front fence. It might have fallen apart from being exposed to the elements year's ago but for the roses that held it together. They were gnarly things, more thorns than flowers, but with a bit of care maybe they could be beautiful again. She didn't know much about gardening, which Rhys constantly reminded her, but it gave her something to do. She sucked in a breath and blew it back out again, just relieved to be out of the house. She was going crazy in there and had to get out. She loved Rhys, but there was only so much of them being together she could take.
She took the first branch and began clipping at it, finding a rhythm in the monotony of it. She’d tame them if it was the last thing she did. No one messed with Gwen Cooper.
How had her life become this? Constantly on the run from the government that may or may not still want her dead. There was no telling what they might do. Perhaps with enough time they'd forget all about her, or at least realise that Torchwood were no longer a threat to them. How could it be? It was only her now. Jack was gone and everyone else was dead. No one knew where they were. All they had to connect them with the outside world was a single prepaid mobile phone, and only five people had the number: her parents, Rhys' parents and Andy.
Eventually she was going to have to come out of hiding. There was no way she was having this baby without doctors and nurses there. Even then she had a plan to get in and get out as quickly as possible. No names, just deliver the baby and go, even if Rhys had to steal it out from the nursery himself, whilst she evaded the nurses station.
She had Rhys, and she had their unborn child, yet she couldn't shake the sensation of feeling utterly alone. Torchwood had been her whole life before now. Just the thought of waking up and knowing that there was no rush to get dressed, no Jack Harkness showing up at her door at four in the morning looking like he'd had a full night's sleep, shower and a three course breakfast, coming to collect her to help him avert the next planetary crisis. There was no hub to go to, no Ianto there to serve her coffee with a smile and a sense of dry wit whilst briefing her on the overnight reading and the forecast for the rest of the day.
No friends, Gwen thought bitterly as a rose thorn pricked her hand, making her swipe angrily at it with her secateurs and cutting the offending branch off in revenge. Jack and Ianto and Rhys had become the entirety of her insular little world. She’d always thought her life was huge, seeing all the wonders of the universe that crossed their paths and thinking how lucky she was that so few people got to see the things she did. Only now did she realise that whilst her horizons had been broadened by the wonder of it all that her own existence had shrunk, almost to nothing.
Not nothing, she told herself out loud, resting one hand protectively over her belly. There was still something worth fighting for and she wouldn’t let anyone come between her and those she still had.
