Fffc Bingo Card - The morning after

[m_findlow]

Title: The morning after 
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Owen, Torchwood team 
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none 
Author notes: Written for Bingo Card Prompt 37 - Morning at fffc
Summary: In the light of morning, Jack sees the horror of this place for what it is. 

Jack pushed open the farmhouse door and squinted as the first rays of bright sunshine hit his face. He'd barely registered that it was morning already, after the night of hell he and his team had endured. He was the lucky one, he supposed. He'd been the one inflicting physical harm instead of being on the receiving end. Just the idea of anyone laying a hand on his team like that sent a wave of anger rippling through him. Whatever came next for the people he had tied up inside the house was far too good for them. Some things were beyond human. Some things deserved death. 

He stood in the doorway for a moment and let the sunlight beat down on his face. It was warm and comforting, like the hand of a lover stroking it and washing away all the horror. He sucked in a deep breath of country air. It was still chilly but fresh and reinvigorating. All around him was a vista of green hills and rural idyll. This was the Wales he remembered from a century ago, before the industrialists had come along and given birth to the modern city that hugged the tiny port towns that dotted the coastline. In his head he could imagine that he could still hear the deep Welsh voices rising out of the ground and the coal mines below, bringing their song into the air as they wandered down those same winding gravel paths that snaked between the hills. When you were surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city and all its people, it was easy to forget the simple tranquil beauty that lay just a few dozen miles away, still more or less protected from the urban sprawl. 

Something jostled past him in the doorway and Jack's immediate instinct was to grab whoever or whatever it was. If someone was trying to make a break for it, they had better think again. No one was leaving this place until justice was done. His reflexes were too slow however, or the thing that slipped past him too small and nimble. It wasn't until he heard the slightly feminine undertones in the retching just beyond him that he saw it was Tosh, bent over and trying to throw up into a patch of lush grass. 

Another figure pushed past Jack. ‘Out, the lot of you,’ came Owen's terse command. Owen stood there and glowered at the doorway until Gwen gently placed a hand on Jack's arm, persuading him to step sideways so she could get through without having to squeeze. He made way for her, knowing she must be in agony from her gunshot wounds. A few seconds later, the last member of his team plodded past, looking equally as downtrodden, as Owen bustled the pair of them outside. Jack watched as Owen walked over to where Tosh was trying and failing miserably to bring up anything, offering her a bottle of water and saying "lucky you skipped the burgers". 

Jack drew in another deep, crisp breath and sighed it back out. This place should have been peaceful and restorative, but not one of his team looked the slightest bit like they were enjoying the scene. He could scarcely blame them. The tang of spent rifle cartridges still lingered on the back of his tongue, ruining slightly the air of tranquility that surrounded them. 

Owen trudged back toward him as the other three milled about in various states of hunger, weariness and pain and despondency. ‘The stink in there is enough to make anyone lose their stomach,’ he stated. 

Gwen leaned her back against the dry stone wall, hugging herself and raising her face into her sunshine. Ianto had parked himself in the grass, head between his knees, and Tosh stared around the house and the surrounding countryside as if waiting for more of them to appear from around the bend in the road with their guns and their meat cleavers. Instead of cannibals, Jack could make out the sound of sirens approaching from around that same bend in the road. 

‘About bloody time,’ Owen grumbled, glowering as three police cars and two paramedic vehicles rumbled towards them. ‘Bet they stopped for breakfast along the way and everything. Someone in there might have bled to death first,’ he added, nodding his head back towards the house. 

If Jack could have burned down the house behind him, he would have, leaving all of its occupants inside. Even shot and bleeding wasn't enough to satisfy Jack's need to avenge the murdered. Owen should have left them to bleed out instead of tying off their limbs to stem the bleeding. Bleeding and butchered was the least they deserved since they were so keen on it. A lump formed in the back of his throat as his gaze landed on Ianto, who was being fussed over by two paramedics, clearly concerned by his body language. Jack had almost arrived too late. Ianto had very nearly been their last victim. So much for getting the man out of the hub and on the road to recovery, Jack thought bitterly. For once he wished it had just been some vicious alien who didn't know any better than to kill and eat its prey. He could live with that. This, these subhumans, were something he'd never encountered before. Not even the cultists stooped to this level of depravity. 

A policeman approached Jack and Owen and removed his hat. ‘You're Torchwood?’ 

Jack nodded. ‘They're detained inside.’ He chewed his lip a moment, debating the next sentence. ‘Some of them might need medical attention.’ 

‘You should get a SOCO team out here as well,’ Owen added. ‘You're going to need one.’ 

The policeman set his hands on his hips and puffed out a breath as he looked around. ‘Nice morning like this ruined by a couple of mental locals. Makes you rethink moving to the country, doesn't it?’ 

Makes you rethink preserving the human race, Jack thought.