Jul 23 2009

Omega Virus

Doctor Angela Kilpatrick checked her clipboard once and matched the number of names on the sheet to the number of faces before her. Good. They were all here. She flipped to the second page for her notes. As she faced them once more, she worriedly bit her lip. This entire operation was risky. She didn’t like it, the drug wasn’t ready for human testing, but it wasn’t her call. She was a doctor, but a very junior one.

If this worked, humanity would never have to worry about attrition by cancer or HIV or plague. If it didn’t, she stood the possibility of being blacklisted from every medical job from hospital physician to school nurse.

“Al… alright, everyone,” she started nervously. “Donna,” she gestured to the nurse waiting beside the door, a similar clipboard clutched in her hands, “is going to call you into the room one-by-one. She will be collecting the waivers you signed as you come in. Feel free to take your time reading through the paperwork. If you haven’t had enough time, we can move you to the end of the list.”

She hoped her smile conveyed reassurance, though she didn’t feel any. “I’ll be giving you a shot of our test vaccine. There’s an information sheet on the drug, currently in development under the serial X1B12 Omega, in your packet. The injection may sting a little, no more than getting any other shot.” That was a lie. There was a chance that the vaccine would react negatively when it hit human blood. Some of the animals they’d tested it on had developed sores, some had gone strange. Most, actually, but the upper echelon were sure that the human element would make all the difference. “We’ll move you into a resting room. Each of you will have your own bed, and we’d like to monitor you for the next forty-eight hours before we release you to your homes. You will be fully cared for during your stay here and our chef does take requests.” She laughed nervously. Her attempt at humor fell flat. “Right. Payment will be debited to your accounts tonight and should be available for immediate withdrawal when you are released. Shall we begin?”

Angela couldn’t help but feel that she’d botched that somehow. Her first big medical trial and all she had were doubts. Her smile was less than reassuring as she carefully administered the test drug to all twelve subjects. At least she didn’t stutter as she listed off the possible side effects and rattled on about protocol during the resting period. The words were more an exercise to comfort herself than the patients.

Another nurse, Anne Marie, led each patient into the resting room. The mechanical noise coming from the next room increased with each patient as they were hooked up to an array of machines – IV drip, heart monitor, EEG. In a way, the repetitive beeping was soothing. It meant that everything was going alright, that her patients were alive and safe. Unbidden, images of their most recent batch of test animals came to mind. She shuddered as she remembered the blank stares of the monkeys they’d used and the howling cries as they’d thrown themselves bodily against their cages trying to escape.

She hoped that the head doctors were right, and her patients wouldn’t suffer the same fate.

Seconds after she administered the vaccine to the twelfth and final patient, one of the heart monitors started to beep erratically. A second followed seconds later, and then a third. Anne and Donna rushed between patients, taking pulses and frantically administering sedatives. The sedatives wouldn’t work, she knew from experience. The vaccine, the test drug, would burn it away before it got more than a foot through the bloodstream, eradicating it because it didn’t belong there.

The patient nearest her started to convulse and she stood frozen. There was nothing she could do for them.

“What’s happening?” Mrs. Ellis, the sixty-odd matron who still sat on the exam table, screamed at her. She had been screaming for quite some time.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Angela kept staring through the glass observation wall at the room beyond. Half of the patients had flat-lined, despite Anne and Donna’s best efforts. The rest were only seconds behind. Mrs. Ellis’s screams were cut off as her tongue swelled, blocking her airway. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mrs. Ellis collapse against the table, her body spasming, feet banging against the metal storage box under the table. Minutes later, her seizure stopped and she was dead.

Donna flung open the door, tears staining her pretty face. “Why didn’t you help us!?” She demanded.

“There was nothing I could do,” Angela replied, her voice flat, emotionless. Anne and Donna were new, hired on specifically for the human trials. This was their first time seeing this. For Angela, this marked number seven.

She pulled her mobile from her pocket and pressed the first speed dial. The phone was answered on the first ring. They’d been waiting.

“Mr. Johnson?”

“We’re here.” She shuddered involuntarily. He must have her on speakerphone. She hated it when they talked like that, in unison. It made her blood run cold.

“They’ve died, sir. All the test subjects, all twelve. They’re dead, sir.”

There was a pause on the other end. “We’ll send someone for clean-up.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t let the nurses leave the building.”

“Yes, sir.” She started to hang up the phone but movement in the other room stopped her. “Wait, sir. There’s something going on in the other room.”

The first patient, a young kid by the name of Donald Trumpet, barely out of his teens, sat up. He was blocking the heart monitor with his body, but there was no reassuring beep of life from the machinery. Donald stood up and the machine leads pulled free, disconnecting. Subjects two and three were starting to rouse.

“Sir,” she began softly, her voice a mix of wonder and trepidation, “I think it worked. The patients… they’re moving.” One by one the patients stood and turned towards the observation room, slowly shuffling their way forward like in a trance.

She heard the board draw a collective breath. “Are they alive?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“What are they doing?” Anne whispered to Donna. “Their monitors are all dead. They’re still dead. That’s not possible.”

A glance at the nearest heart set of monitors confirmed. Even as the body connected to them started to rise, there was no heart activity. She shifted a step closer. There, on the EEG. There was a faint pulse. Not real activity but something, like there was a current running through the brain but no real thought.

“There’s a slight reading on the EEG, sir,” Angela reported. “There’s a current there but no thought.” This was so bizarre. None of the previous subjects had acted like this. Perhaps there was something special about human blood after all. “I don’t know what-”

The rest of her sentence was cut off as she screamed. Pain exploded through her neck and she felt two sharp, stabbing cuts either side of her collarbone. The weight on her shoulder moved away and she fell. Blood spurted from the severed arteries in her neck, painting the walls in a wide arc of sprayed blood. The phone fell from her hand as it shook along with the rest of her body, heaving as life poured away from her. Vaguely, she was aware of Donna and Anne screaming, as well as a distant pounding, growing louder each second.

They wanted in.

Angela stared up at Mrs. Ellis. The woman’s eyes were vacant. Blood – Angela’s blood – dripped from her mouth and she turned on the two nurses with a feral grin.

Glass shattered.

She knew no more.

*****

Gwen Cooper stepped outside of the coffee shop and frowned at the thick black storm clouds rolling in from the bay. So much for a day of shopping. It fit that her one day off in near two weeks would have bad weather. Best check in and make sure the storm wasn’t related to any sort of rift activity.

Briefly she wondered if she should pick up anything for the boys while she was here. Ianto would have the coffee covered, but there were sweets. The coffee house did make rather good pastries. Even if the boys didn’t want any, she wouldn’t really mind having a go. There was a chance they wouldn’t be there. They’d started venturing out of the Hub together more frequently for non-work things. Dating. Good for them if they were. She’d be fine on her own. More for her, in that case.

Her stomach made the decision for her, choosing that moment to growl loudly.

When Gwen stepped out onto the street a second time, the clouds had advanced to the first row of houses lining the bay. She pulled the collar of her coat up to block out some of the wind. It whipped at her. It was strong, obviously the driving force between the storm’s rapid advance. Her shoes clattered loudly against the cobblestones. The street was rapidly becoming deserted as the other pedestrian took one look at the oncoming clouds and sought shelter.

Something large and heavy struck her as she passed the small alleyway between the bookstore and an apartment building. Her coffee splashed across the ground, the box of Danishes breaking open as it hit the street to send the pastries skidding away.

“Bollocks,” she shouted as she shoved the man who’d tackled her off. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

The man stumbled back a ways, head down. Gwen quickly stood and put her hand on her pistol in case he had any weapons. It was just a young kid, unarmed, but the way he kept staring down at the road directly in front of him disturbed her. She was ready when he came at her again. Gwen clocked him across the head before he touched her, sending him down to the pavement.

“You picked the wrong bloody woman to mess with,” she warned. “I’ve got a gun. You’d better run on home.”

He twitched, groaned in pain, but didn’t get up. A junkie, she thought. Saw a woman walking alone and thought he could hit her up for another fix. Bastard.

She spared a glance for the spilled coffee and pastries. Ruined. There went a couple quid wasted. As she hurried down the street towards the Hub, she spared a backwards glance for the kid who’d attacked her. He was slowly starting to pick himself up, moving awkwardly, disjointedly.

With a press of a button she had PC Andrew Davidson on the phone.

“Hello?” He answered in a harried sort of voice. There was a clamor in the background, and the sound of several voices raised in argument.

“Busy day?” Gwen asked.

“You have no idea,” Andy drawled. “Make it quick.”

She glanced back. The man was shuffling up the street away from her. “I just got accosted by a druggie off at the waterfront. Fended him off but I don’t know if he’s going to try for someone with a little less fight in them.” She read off the address and gave him directions towards where the man was headed.

Andy sighed. “Seems all the loons are out today. Our cells are nearly full, but I’ll send a squad car around.”

Gwen blinked in surprise. “That bad?”

“Must be the full moon,” Andy muttered. “Brings all the loonies out.”

“Yeah, must be.”

She snapped her phone closed and started towards the Hub with renewed urgency. It could be coincidence, but she’d still like to take a look at today’s reading and make sure there wasn’t anything going on with the Rift today.

Just what she needed, she thought, and on her bloody day off.

*****

David Ackers winced as the businessman next to him elbowed him right in the arm as he rifled through the briefcase in his lap. He’d managed to hit David, right over the spot where that loon in the lobby had bitten him. Thankfully the nurse in the concourse had assured him that the man wasn’t rabid, just having some sort of psychotic episode. How the man had gotten through the security at Cardiff Airport when he was so obviously ill, David had no idea. It had taken nearly a dozen men to subdue him after he’d attacked that poor little girl, and he’d either bitten or scratched all of them.

Bloody nutter.

His hand throbbed in pain. The nurse had given him some Advil for it, but they didn’t seem to help. He debated seeing if the stewardess had any more.

No, he thought. He’d be fine. He could deal with the pain. Wasn’t even bleeding much anymore.

David settled back into his seat and shut his eyes. He rested his arm across his lap, well out of the way of flying elbows. Three days in the Netherlands and then he’d be back to see his family.

As the plane took off, his ears started to ring. It got worse and worse as they ascended, building into the most spectacular of headaches. Maybe the bite had been worse than he’d thought. Maybe he should have had it looked at. He tried to wring for the stewardess but his body didn’t seem to want to move.

He passed out as the tremors started.

*****

“Hello,” Gwen called out as the door to the Hub started to roll back in place behind her. The computer terminals were on but unmanned, and to all outward appearances the Hub seemed deserted. “Anyone home?” She started towards the deck of computers that would always in her mind be firmly labeled as Tosh’s.

Jack answered her seconds later. “Down in a moment.” His voice carried through the open door of his office on the upper level.

She carefully hid a smile as Jack appeared, followed discretely by Ianto. The Welshman was pulling on his suit coat as he exited Jack’s office and adjusting his tie. Didn’t have to be a mind-reader to know what they’d been up to. Jack’s huge grin was evidence enough. He hadn’t bothered to fully button up his shirt and the undershirt he usually wore underneath was conspicuously absent, revealing a swath of smooth chest.

Ianto was a very lucky man.

“You’re not supposed to be here today,” Jack said, a faint reprimand carried in the tone of his voice.

“Mmmhmm,” she agreed. Her smile took on a smug taint. “Neither are you.”

“I live here,” Jack pointed out. He was giving her the ‘get out’ facial signals. Obviously, she’d interrupted them before the main event.

“Just wanted to check on something real quick, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

She brought up the day’s readings of Rift activities.

“Looks normal,” Ianto commented as he walked up beside her. He grabbed the dirty coffee cups and plates that had been left there by someone – likely Jack – since she’d last been in the Hub and moved on, building a small tower of dishes in his hands as he moved around the Hub, cleaning.

So much for the theory that it was something in the Rift.

“Well, that solves it.” She double-checked the logs all the way into yesterday morning and found nothing unusual.

“Something up?” Jack asked. He sounded distracted. She glanced sideways at him. His eyes were following Ianto around the room, paying close attention to a particular part of his anatomy – his rear.

“Just some tweaker acting all weird at me this morning. Spilled my coffee and some Danishes. Police’ll have him rounded up, so it’s no bother, but I saw the storm and thought I’d check.”

“Humans do strange things all the time without aliens being involved,” Jack said. He paused for a moment. “You said there were Danishes?”

“Ruined, I’m afraid.”

“If you’re hungry, sir, I can call in,” Ianto called from the vague direction of the kitchen.

“Don’t bother,” Jack called back. “We’ll go out in a bit.”

Gwen gave him an odd look. “A sit down? In this weather?”

Jack leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially in her ear. “What’s more romantic than sharing an umbrella in the rain? Besides, it’ll be less crowded this way and I’m all for anything that makes clothes stick to skin.”

She laughed loudly. “You are incorrigible.”

“I do try.”

She gave the Rift monitors one last look-over. “You’ll be here in case something goes odd?”

“If not, I’ve got alerts set up.” He tapped his wristband.

“Well, then.” She gave him and Ianto a broad smile as she left. “I’m off. You boys have fun.”

“Don’t we always?” Jack replied with an impudent grin. Ianto just waved from where he leaned against the kitchen doorway.

As she heading back towards the surface, she debated what to do with the rest of her evening. The prospect of a good cuddle was starting to appeal to her. Rain was lightly pelting the sidewalk as she reached the tourist office and glanced outside. She popped open an umbrella from the stand by the door and pulled out the phone. Maybe Rhys was home. She could stop for take-out, maybe a movie.

Plan in mind, she dialed.

*****

Nerinder Shupali was running late. He dashed across the parking lot at LAX, heading towards the terminal. Hopefully his flight had been delayed, or security would be quick. For him, it never was. He was an American citizen, but try telling that to the crowds of shifty-eyed passengers who stared at him with suspicion or to the gate guards who always seemed to take extra long questioning him. He knew the standard list of questions by rote and had his official U.S. passport in hand as he burst through the doors.

The lobby was empty, deserted.

He frowned and approached the security checkpoint. There was no one there. Luggage was discarded along the walls and walkways, some seemingly left lying haphazardly in the middle of the terminal. He glanced at the information signs. Departures and arrivals scrolled across as usual, nothing amiss.

Where was everyone?

He bypassed the security tape, probably the only time in his life he’d be able to do so. His footsteps echoed off the walls, sounding discordantly loud in the silence. There was no one on the other side of security. There was no one anywhere. He checked his printed ticket for the terminal number and started in that direction. It was a Thursday, not that early in the morning. The airport should be filled with the morning rush.

As he walked he caught sight of a lone janitor trudging out of one of the service doorways.

“Hello?” He called.

The man said nothing, but he turned towards Nerinder and shuffled forward. Nerinder hustled forward to meet him halfway.

“Hello? Is the airport closed? Did something happen? I have a 7:45 flight scheduled out of Terminal 7. Do you know anything?”

As the man approached, Nerinder caught sight of the blank, dead-looking expression in his eyes. Poor man. They all got like that if they worked in service too long. He remembered his grandfather had been the same, almost a zombie when he’d got home from work, at least until after dinner and a few beers.

“Hello?” He asked again. Maybe the poor man was mute.

He barely had time to react before the man lunged, jaw popping impossibly wide open before he bit down, hard, on Nerinder’s arm, tearing fabric and flesh in the process. Nerinder screamed and flailed feebly. He’d never been much of a fighter and the man had a strong hold. They fell to the ground, landing hard. Nerinder’s head met with the floor with a loud smack.

The last thought that passed through Nerinder Shupali’s head was one of regret. He should have listened to his boyfriend, Arima, and rescheduled the trip. He’d turned down breakfast in bed to die on the airport floor.

Life was not fair.

*****

The phone rang seconds after Jack got Ianto’s shirt off. They were a tangle of limbs on Ianto’s bed. Ianto was sprawled on his back, clothes a mess, and Jack was leaning on top of him, half on the bed, half still standing.

“Don’t answer that,” Ianto said between furtive kisses as he pulled Jack more firmly on top of him.

Their interruption earlier had left them both in a bit of a mood. Dinner had been an interesting affair, full of innuendo and not so subtle touches. It was a wonder they hadn’t gone at it right there in the restaurant. He wouldn’t have minded but Ianto could be so… Welsh about things like that. Plus, they made an amazing risotto there and Jack really would like to be able to go back.

One of his hands worked its way under the waistband of Ianto’s pants as he flipped open his mobile.

“Jack! Don’t-”

“Hello?” Jack cut Ianto off as his fingers teased their way down Ianto’s stomach to brush lightly against erect flesh.

Gwen’s voice poured in from the other end of the line, sounding strained and slightly panicked. “Jack, we have a problem. People are going bonkers all over Cardiff.”

He shouldered the phone briefly while he worked on getting Ianto’s fly open and pulling his pants down to his hips. Ianto had his arm over his mouth to muffle the low moans he was making as Jack teased him. “If there’d been any rift activity, the alarm would have gone off. No alarm, must just be a crazy night.”

“Jack!” Gwen’s tone increased in fervor. “This isn’t normal, human level bonkers.”

He let one of his hands dip lower to press tauntingly against Ianto’s entrance, pressing a finger inside for the briefest of moments before pulling it away to run circles around the puckered hole. God, Ianto was close to begging for it, probably would be if Jack wasn’t on the phone. That thought only made him want to tease Ianto more.

“People are going mad out in the streets, biting each other. They’ve over-run the jail cells.”

With his free hand, Jack pushed Ianto’s arm away from his mouth and replaced it with his fingers. Ianto took them in greedily, working his tongue around them with loud slurping sounds. He moaned around Jack’s fingers as Jack pressed a finger fully inside of him and crooked it before dragging it slowly back out.

“Andy called me from the police station. Even some of the coppers have gone mad. He said it’s like whoever gets bitten goes mad themselves.”

“Rabies?” Jack asked as he worked a second finger inside of Ianto. He wished he had a free hand to grab some of their toys, something to push Ianto that much further towards the edge while Jack was occupied. From the way Ianto was writhing on the bed and arching into Jack’s touch, he didn’t seem to mind the little he had.

“Rabies doesn’t make the dead get up off of operating tables and go after their doctors,” Gwen announced harshly.

A cold feeling rose in the pit of Jack’s stomach, tinged at the edges with a slowly building excitement. “Are you saying that we have zombies, here in Cardiff?”

“That’s what it looks like,” Gwen confirmed.

“Zombies,” he repeated in wonder.

Ianto’s muffled cries were getting louder. He was getting closer to climax but it would take more than fingers to give him a real release when Jack was this distracted.

Regretfully, he pulled his hands free, wiping them on a rag on the bedside table.

“Jack?” Ianto looked up at him with the most gorgeous, full-lipped pleading expression. It took all of Jack’s will power not to give in.

“All right, Gwen. We’ll meet you at the hub.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Gwen sounded relieved, like she expected Jack to have the magical solution to their problem. Maybe he would. Maybe there was no solution. Only one way to find out.

He hung the phone up with a click and dropped it in his pocket. “Come on, Ianto,” he said as he stood, “duty calls.”

Ianto groaned. “Take a message and tell it to call back later.” He reached up to grab Jack by the shirt front and pull him down into a searing kiss.

A broad grin stretched across Jack’s face as their lips parted nearly a full minute later. “I’ll make it up to you later,” he promised.

“I fully intend to keep you to that.” With a put-upon sigh, Ianto stood and started straightening their clothes. The bulge in the front of his pants was incredibly noticeable but Jack knew it wouldn’t be a problem by the time they reached the hub.

As he watched Ianto walk out of the flat, he started planning exactly how he would make it up to Ianto. There would be toys involved, he decided. Maybe wrist cuffs and whipped cream.

*****

The Hub was more crowded than Jack expected when they arrived. Gwen shifted nervously on her feet while Rhys gawked at everything around him and PC Andy stared at some paperwork that had been left out near one of the computer arrays.

“I thought we talked about you bringing home strays,” he chided gently.

“Now, Jack, I couldn’t just leave them out there when there’s…” Her mouth froze around the word, as if she couldn’t quite get her mind around it. “…zombies… out there.”

He couldn’t really fault her for the decision, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

“Coffee?” Ianto inquired of the newcomers. They seemed startled to be offered such niceties.

“Black,” Andy said.

“Cream and two sugars,” Rhys supplied. At a look from Gwen, he corrected himself. “Just one sugar, thanks.” She cast a pointed look at his gut. He sighed. “Just cream.”

“Right.” He could tell Ianto was trying very hard not to smile at Rhys and Gwen’s antics. “Be right back.”

As Ianto started up the stairs, Jack approached the Rift monitor.

“Nothing,” Gwen said. “Not even a beep. Whatever this is, Jack, it’s not alien.”

Jack chuckled slightly. “Humanity has always been capable of destroying itself without alien intervention.”

“Oi!” Rhys objected. “We’re not all bad.”

The look Jack shot Rhys made the other man pause visibly. “Hiroshima,” Jack said firmly. “Auschwitz. Srebrenica. Nanking. Need I go on?”

Rhys frowned like a kicked puppy. “Well, maybe in that light. But that’s hardly a judge.”

“It only takes one.”

No one had anything to say to that. He stared at the computer monitors beside Gwen.

“Bring up the CCTV footage. What have we got?”

“Tons,” Gwen said. “It’s all over the place.”

She cycled through minutes worth of video, showing men and women attacking each other in the streets. Blood sprayed as the attackers bit into vital organs though that didn’t seem to be by design, they just went after whatever body part was handiest. It was like watching a horror flick being played out on the streets of Cardiff.

“Nasty,” Ianto commented from behind Jack. He handed Jack a familiar mug and then moved on to divvy out the rest of the drinks.

Gwen kept cycling through more and more footage as Jack thought. To find a solution, they’d need to get to find the problem and that meant figuring out what specifically was making people go crazy.

“Ianto, how’s the armory on sharp, bladed weapons?”

“Well-stocked, sir.”

“What?” Gwen piped up. “What good’s a sword going to do?”

“I have a feeling,” Jack started as he watched a man fight back against one of the zombies. It was a short fight. “…that guns aren’t going to be much use up there.”

“But blades?”

Rhys piped up. “Haven’t you ever watched zombie films, luv? You got to hack ‘em to bits, cut off their heads.”

She looked at them in horror. “You want us to go up there and start chopping people’s heads off?”

“No,” Jack answered calmly, “I want us to go up there and capture one alive. Or undead, case depending. The swords are for any of the other zombies that try to get in our way.”

“What makes you think we’re going to see more than one?” Gwen asked.

He gave her a patient look. “They’re zombies, Gwen. Plague, infection, spreading…”

“Right. Well, best be off then.”

“You two stay here,” he told Andy and Rhys. Like any other order he gave around here, it was ignored.

“No way, no how,” Rhys complained, his jaw set in a firm line. “I’m not letting Gwen go out there alone.”

“She won’t be alone.”

“We can help,” Andy added.

He sighed. They didn’t have time to argue this. There was no telling how far it’d spread. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Jack pressed a quick kiss to Ianto’s cheek as Ianto stepped up to help him on with his coat.

“I’ll just stay here then,” Ianto suggested, a question in his voice. “Monitor the TVs?”

At least someone listened to him. “See if you can figure out how far it’s spread.”

“Right.”

He stalked off to the armory, felling slightly like a mother ducks as the three others followed him. When he returned to the Hub, he had a large, long sword strapped to his back.

Ianto was already gathering up discarded coffee cups as they started out the door. “Happy hunting,” he called after them.

“Will try,” Jack shot back. As soon as the door slid shut behind him, he let the smile that had been threatening to burst out of him appear. He couldn’t believe it. Zombies. In Cardiff. He couldn’t wait to tell the Doctor.

*****

Jack stepped out into the streets above the Hub and stared out into the dark night. The wharf was quiet, which was unusual for this time of night. Gwen and the two men followed him out, forming a loose semi-circle at his back.

“This is eerie,” Gwen whispered, echoing the thoughts that were in Jack’s mind, likely in the others’ as well. “Where do you suppose we should look?”

The sword hissed low and metallic as he drew it from the sheathe. “I don’t think we’re going to have to go far.”

He stepped out onto the stones of the wharf. His boots thudded heavily as he walked, sounding like drum beats in the stillness of the night. There was no movement in the shadows at the edges of the street but he knew by some deeply buried instinct that they were not alone.

The first growl came from the left. It was low and guttural and entirely not human. Andy and Rhys jumped. Gwen clutched her axe a little tighter in both hands. After a few seconds, the shadows started to move. Slowly shapes emerged, resolving into more human-looking figures the closer they got to the light. They moved unnaturally. Their feet slid along the ground instead of stepping properly and their arms hung loosely. Some had their heads down, others stared forward at them with wide slack jaws. There were roughly seven of them approaching from all directions, but there was a strong possibility that there were more in the area.

As they got closer, Jack heard the noise. They were moaning.

“We only need one alive. Just get one we can get blood from, then get back inside. Kill anything that gets in your way.”

Gwen stared at him aghast. “They’re people Jack.”

“Not anymore. Right now, they’re carriers, like the fleas and rats of the Bubonic era. However many we kill are however many aren’t out there biting more people, spreading it.”

“Right.” Gwen’s body belied the confidence in her voice. She shifted nervously on her feet and stepped slightly towards one of the approaching zombies.

“Don’t get too far,” Jack warned. “We want a quick extraction. Let them come to you.”

She awkwardly waited a few feet from the group to the west. Andy and Rhys fanned out in the other two directions while Jack held still. One of the zombies was approaching faster than the others, gaining speed as it crossed the courtyard until it had built up a strange rolling sort of lope that carried it towards them at a rapid pace. Jack was ready for it. He held his sword in both hands, point towards the ground and waited. It lunged as soon as was within three paces of Jack. He easily sidestepped and brought the sword up, blade flat and smacked it hard in the side of the head. It fell, crumpling to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and then a second appeared, right on its heels. Jack swung again, this time using the blade to perfectly bisect the head and shoulders. There was no spray of blood like in the movies. A few droplets spattered on the cobblestones before the body hit with a dull thud. The head rolled away for a foot before coming to a halt.

Jack’s attention was briefly drawn away from the advancing horde as he stared at the decapitated body. Blood oozed out of the stump were the neck used to be, not really flowing, but more pouring out like a stiff strawberry jam. It was oddly pigmented too, more greenish than red, leaving the overall effect rather nauseating at first glance.

Then, he had no more time for contemplation as the rest of the zombies reached them. Gwen fought admirably, wielding her axe well if rather ungracefully. Rhys blundered and relied more on Gwen’s help than anything. Really all he did was distract them long enough for Gwen or Andy to get round and chop off their heads. Andy was the most surprising of them all. What he lacked in finesse he made up for in enthusiasm. Every zombie that approached Andy died in rather quick, rather brutal fashion.

That is a very repressed man, Jack thought absently as he decapitated his third zombie. He looked around for another and was surprised to realize that was it. There were no more, at least not that were approaching him.

He stared into the shadows around them for a long moment but nothing stirred.

“Gloves,” Jack ordered.

Gwen had hers out in seconds and was pulling them on while Andy and Rhys stared at him in confusion. He ignored them and pulled on his own set of triple thick rubber gloves. With one hand, he grabbed the unconscious zombie under one armpit and together with Gwen they got it lifted and started hauling it back to the Hub.

“Will one of you two get the door?”

“Right.” Rhys jumped to respond and Jack couldn’t help but think that was likely the most useful thing he’d done all day.

*****

“It’s bad,” Ianto confirmed as they emerged into the Hub.

“How… bad…?” Jack asked as they struggled to get the corpse up the few short stairs to the walkway to the medical bay. It wasn’t so much heavy as awkward.

“I’m getting reports from all around the globe. Tracing back it seems there was an attack at Cardiff Airport which led to reports of attacks at a number of major airports that link out of Cardiff and spiraling on from there. It’s fairly safe to say that it’s everywhere by now and spreading rapidly.”

“Shit,” Gwen said, a sentiment they all shared.

There was something hot in the way the rubber gloves snapped as Ianto pulled a pair on. He came around and picked up the corpse’s legs, and suddenly they were having a much easier time getting it to the med bay. They strapped it tightly to the examining table, pulling more restraints out of the cabinets to make sure it was fully secure. Jack rummaged through the medical supplies until he had found a syringe. He pulled out a vial of the thick blood and fed it into a test tube save for the few drops that went on their scanner.

“Amazing,” Jack said as the chemical makeup of the drug appeared on the screen. They could see the green parts of the blood visibly attacking whatever remained in red, surrounding it and turning it green with a tiny pop. “There’s a virus here taking over the blood stream.”

Gwen took one look at the screen then shook her head. “I’ve never been much good at all that biology stuff.”

“We need a doctor,” Ianto announced. “Particularly one with knowledge of dealing with mutated viruses. There’s a chance we may be able to find a cure or at least a way to block it from spreading.”

A smile spread across Jack’s face. “It just so happens I know one.” Well, not a doctor with those specific qualities, but between Martha Jones and the Doctor, they’d be able to figure something out.

He pulled out his cell and dialed. The line rang several times with no answer.

“Looks like we’re going on a road trip. Gwen, you, Andy, and Rhys stay here. Get that thing into a holding cell and see if you can isolate areas this hasn’t hit yet. Ianto, you’re with me.”

“I’ll just get some coffee for the road.” Jack smiled appreciatively at that and watched him go.

Maybe he’d finally have a chance to introduce Ianto to the rest of his odd little family.

*****

The roads were mostly vacant near Cardiff. Once in a while they’d pass another car on the road, but they didn’t stop to examine whether the people inside were moving. Some zoomed past them, survivors on their way to a safer place. Jack turned the radio to a news channel for a few moments before switching back to music, just enough for them to catch the pertinent bits.

“…government advises all uninfected to seek shelter at the nearest military facility. All entrants will be screened, infected killed on sight. I repeat, the government advises all uninfected citizens to seek shelter at the nearest military facility. In Cardiff, there is…”

“Well,” Jack said after a moment’s pause, “at least the government seems to have a handle on containment.”

“Which means we have maybe a day before something goes horribly wrong.”

Jack grinned over at Ianto. “Feeling optimistic today?”

Ianto’s returning grin was a touch wicked. It only served to reinforce how desperately he wanted Ianto. As much as he played it cool, the constant interruptions were starting to get to him. As soon as this was over, he was tying Ianto to the bed for a full weekend of fun.

“How good are you at driving while distracted?” Ianto asked after a second’s paused.

He thought about it for a second, wondering where Ianto was going with this. “Rather good.”

“Wonderful,” Ianto proclaimed.

Ianto leaned across the center aisle between them before Jack could really object. Deft hands unzipped Jack’s pants and pulled him out of his pants. Cool air hit his burgeoning erection, though that was only for a brief moment before Ianto swallowed him down. Warm, wet suction surrounded him and he groaned. Jack’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel and the car jumped forward.

This was exactly what he needed.

“Don’t ever stop,” he moaned.

Ianto’s tongue played against him as he bobbed his head. Jack lowered the radio volume to let the sound of Ianto’s mouth echo through the car. Practice had made Ianto a bit of an expert at sucking Jack’s cock, though even when they’d first been starting their relationship, Ianto had made up for lack of finesse with enthusiasm. At this point, Ianto knew exactly which buttons to push to make Jack twitch.

He kept his eyes mostly on the road, occasionally glancing down to appreciate the view of Ianto swallowing him down. The car only swerved a little and Jack was suddenly much more grateful for the vacant roads. He could have gotten off on the sounds alone. Ianto could be amazingly lewd and lurid when Jack got him wound up.

It didn’t take long for Jack to come, not with their two half-starts from earlier today and all the tension he’d been carrying with him throughout the day. Ianto swallowed it all down and kept bobbing until every last drop had been licked up. There was a loud pop when Ianto pulled away, looking smug and incredibly hot as he licked swollen lips.

The car swerved as Jack pulled over to the side of the road. Ianto made a little sound of surprise as they bumped along the gravel at the side of the road and skidded to a quick stop. Before Ianto could say anything, Jack grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a hungry kiss. There were few things that tasted as good as his come in Ianto’s mouth. Ianto moaned into the kiss, undoing his seatbelt so he could slide closer to Jack. Jack pushed him back into the seat and dropped his hand to fondle Ianto through his pants. The other man arched into his touch, whimpering a little into the kiss.

He undid Ianto’s pants in seconds and slipped his hand inside to coil around Ianto’s erection. Desperate noises escaped from Ianto’s lips every time Jack pulled back just a little to catch his breath before covering Ianto’s mouth once more. Ianto twitched against the seat and clutched at Jack. He was practically shaking with need, making Jack regret slightly that they hadn’t taken at least a few minutes to finish up properly earlier. Still, he couldn’t complain much when it left Ianto this desperate and needy.

Warm seed spilled into Jack’s hand. He was careful to keep it from getting onto Ianto’s clothes. Jack pulled away to watch Ianto as he came. He loved the way Ianto looked when he was undone, mouth gaping open, eyes unfocused, hands unsteady. It was almost more erotic than the act itself. When Ianto looked like that, it made Jack want to push him, to keep going, keep teasing until he was mad with pleasure, constantly hovering on the edge of completion. That was a thought for later exploration, once they were done with zombies.

Jack went to wipe his hand off with tissues but Ianto stopped him. He pulled Jack’s hand to his mouth and laved at it with his tongue, cleaning his palm before sucking each digit inside his mouth.

“When this is over,” Jack promised aloud, “I’m keeping you in bed for at least a day.”

“I look forward to it, sir,” Ianto said with a wide smile.

Something thumped heavily against Ianto’s window and they both jumped, turning to stare at the slack-jawed figure pressed against the window. Two more thumps sounded at the rear of the car. The figure next to Ianto’s window ran its hand down the glass before bringing it up to smack the window. The sound of cracking glass filled the car as a spider web of cracks splintered out from where the fist had made contact.

“Jack, go. Now.” Fear was thick in Ianto’s voice.

The car punched forward into the road. In the rearview mirror, he could see more zombies emerging from the woods and heading towards the road. He waited until Ianto had tucked himself back into his pants and buckled back in before punching the acceleration. They needed to find Martha, now.

*****

There was still no answer on Martha’s phone so they headed directly to her flat. Jack studied the street as they parked, but there was no movement from either end. He put the car in park and together, he and Ianto hopped out. They met Martha at the door. She was obviously in a hurry to get somewhere because she nearly ran into Jack as she rushed out the door. They both started and Martha started to lift a sword.

“Wait!”

Martha paused, her weapon still in mid-air. Recognition blossomed across her face and the sword was quickly sheathed before she threw her arms around Jack.

“Jack! Ianto! What in the world are you doing here?”

“Has Unit been following the plague?” Jack asked instead of an answer.

She gave him a pointed look. “Yeah, of course.”

“You should answer your phone more often. Do you have any idea what caused this, or how to cure it?”

Ianto waited by the gate, his gaze attentively fixed on the road around them. He was watching for anything suspicious on the roadway. Jack was slightly relieved that someone was keeping watch.

Martha gave him a rueful smile. “Sorry. Forgot my mobile at home.” She waved the device at him before slipping it back in her pocket. “We’ve got some doctors on it, I’ve looked at it, but this is some really deep stuff, advanced genetics.”

Jack glanced back at Ianto. “So, you’re stumped.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“We think it started in Cardiff. Ianto’s been working on a timeline. Well, Gwen is now. The first victims were all in Cardiff.”

She shifted on her feet and cocked a smile. “Why is it that all the big stuff seems to happen to Cardiff? Well, most of it, recently. Is this Rift related? Some sort of alien virus?”

Jack shook his head. “The Rift monitors haven’t registered a peep. It’s been quiet. Normal.”

“We’ll send UNIT down to help, see if we can help track it back to the source.”

Jack flashed his most convincing, winning smile on her. “I was hoping for a bit bigger of a favor. We’d like you to call the Doctor.”

She paused. “But if it isn’t alien….”

“He’s still one of the smartest men on and off the planet. I’m hoping there’s something he’s seen in his travels, maybe from Earth’s future, something that could help us.”

Martha pulled out her phone and pressed a button. “I’ll try my best, but he doesn’t always- Hello?” She quickly stepped a pace away from them, turning her back to Jack. “There’s something wrong and Jack was wondering- Yes, Jack. He’s here with Ianto. Ianto Jones. No, we aren’t related. He’s Torchwood. Yes, the one…” She glanced over at Ianto quickly and dropped her voice to a near-whisper. “…the one Jack’s snogging. Wait, Doctor…”

She pulled the phone away from her ear and glared at it. Less than a second later, Jack felt that familiar stirring in his blood as the sound of the TARDIS working its way into existence here, now, echoed through the air. Ianto started visibly and stared at the blurry outline of the police box as it formed in Martha’s front lawn. He pointed.

“Is that supposed to be happening?” Ianto asked Jack.

He couldn’t stop grinning. “It is. Ianto, you’re about to meet the Doctor.”

Ianto raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He looked out onto the street once more and then jumped back.

“Jack, we’ve got incoming.”

Martha and Jack cursed in union. Jack pulled the sword from the sheathe on his back and pulled Ianto by the sleeve over to where he and Martha stood. Together, they inched closer to the spot where the TARDIS was emerging, careful not to get too close. The first head appeared as the blue panels of the box started to solidify.

“Come on, Doctor,” Martha whispered urgently.

The zombie, a man who appeared to have been somewhere in middle age, still dressed in a rather nice looking suit, groaned lowly at them and rattled the gate. Each shove pushed at the metal with more and more force until the hinges pulled free from the stone wall. A second head appeared.

“Come on, come on.”

The TARDIS finally solidified. Without preamble, Jack yanked open the door and shoved Ianto inside, right into the Doctor. They both stumbled slightly. The Doctor looked confused.

“Get inside,” Jack ordered.

The first zombie was nearing them so Jack stepped forward and chopped off its head with a swing of his blade. The second was only paces behind it. Jack moved forward to kill that one as well before turning and running towards the open door.

“Problems?” The Doctor asked as Jack ran past him.

Jack slammed the door shut and locked it. “Zombies.”

The Doctor’s face lit up with excitement. “You’re joshing me.”

“I can assure you, they are quite real,” Ianto said. He was very carefully not gaping around at the insides of the spaceship, though Jack could tell he wanted to. Everyone wanted to. He wondered if he’d missed the usual comment.

“Marvelous.”

“We need to get out of here, fast.” Jack moved to the controls and started programming in a spot in the Hub. “Ready to meet the family?” Jack asked with a wide grin.

“Sounds lovely.”

Jack started the TARDIS and suddenly they where whirring away from the hoard of zombies. The outer monitors showed them circling the police box but it was obvious they had no clue what to do with it.

“So,” the Doctor said slowly, “Martha, looking lovely as always.” She flashed him a wide grin back. The Doctor turned to Ianto and gave him a once over. “And you must be Ianto Jones. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ianto took the comment in stride. “All pleasant, I hope.”

“Quite, though perhaps a bit embarrassing considering Jack’s stories.”

Ianto shot Jack a pointed look. “Is that so?”

“I’m innocent, I swear,” Jack lied, sounding nothing of the sort.

The Doctor cut off any reply Ianto would have made. “What do you think of my spaceship?” He was practically bouncing on his feet, waiting for Ianto to remark how big the inside was comparatively.

Ianto stared around the TARDIS, his expression carefully blank. Jack caught a hint of mischief in his eyes and he turned back to answer the Doctor. “It’s so…” The Doctor smiled eagerly. “…messy.”

“What?” The Doctor’s indignant squawk had both Jack and Martha cracking up.

Jack wandered over to drop his arm loosely around Ianto’s waist and kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Well played.”

“You coached him!” The Doctor accused.

A wicked grin stretched across Ianto’s face, matching the one on Jack’s own. “Why would I ever do a thing like that?”

“It is a bit messy in here,” Ianto added. “I suppose all that time flitting from place to place leaves little room for cleaning. Have you ever considered hiring a maid?”

It took a minute for the indignant look on the Doctor’s face to wear off. He glanced once again between Jack and Ianto before grinning. “I can see why Jack likes you so much. Well played, indeed. I don’t suppose you’re offering?”

Ianto cast a mock-sharp look at Jack. “Maybe if Jack decides to run off for weeks on end without telling anyone, I could be persuaded.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The alarms beeped, signaling impending landing.

“I hope the rest of your team isn’t this impertinent,” the Doctor said with a wink.

“Usually, yes.”

“Lovely.”

“You’ll like them,” Martha added with a grin.

Through the outside monitors, Jack watched as surprise and confusion registered across Gwen’s face. Rhys was gawking like a wide-eyed tourist, PC Andy not faring much better. Gwen drew her gun but kept it pointed low, just in case. Andy followed suite seconds later, obviously watching to Gwen for the lead.

“This them?” The Doctor asked, glancing back at Jack with a raised eyebrow. “I thought one of them was supposed to be Asian?”

A wash of grief flooded through Jack momentarily, mirrored on Ianto’s face. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. Martha gave him a sympathetic look and started to speak but he waved her off. Apparently Martha hadn’t passed on that piece of news.

“They were killed. Tosh… Toshiko, and Owen. My brother, Gray… he…” killed them. “…was responsible.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” The Doctor’s expression saddened and he stared down at the ship’s floor. In seconds, his expression shifted and he looked at Jack curiously. “You have a brother?”

“Had.” Jack corrected. Technically Gray was still alive, frozen away in cold storage, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to think of him as Jack’s brother. No, his brother had died when the aliens had captured him. All that was left was a monster.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and crossed the room in quick strides. Gwen’s voice greeted him as he opened the door.

“Jack! What in the blazes are you doing in a Police Box?”

He forced melancholy off of his face and replaced it with his usual carefree grin. “It’s a spaceship, and quite a marvelous one at that. Oh, and it can travel in time.”

She gaped at him and stepped forward, closer to it. “You’re kidding. It can’t be.”

Ianto stepped out, followed by Martha and the Doctor.

“Nice to see you again, Gwen,” Martha greeted.

“Always a pleasure, Martha.” Gwen stared curiously at the Doctor. “And this would be?”

Jack gestured grandly towards the Doctor. “Gwen, it’s my great pleasure to introduce you to the Doctor.”

Her forehead wrinkled in a frown. “Doctor of what?”

“Just the Doctor,” the Doctor answered with a broad smile as he shook her head. “Title, not a profession.” He glanced at Rhys and Andrew, who were standing off to the side looking a bit lost. “And these gentlemen are…?”

“Oh!” Gwen pointed. “That’s my husband Rhys, and my partner from back when I used to be with the police, PC Andrews. Thought it’d be best to keep them down here, safe.”

“A constable! How quaint!” The Doctor beamed at the pair of men before turning towards the bank of computers. “So, zombies you said?”

“Over here,” Ianto called from beside one of the computers. He loaded up all the information they’d been able to gather from the blood sample. “It’s a virus, or at least we think it is. Seems to be spread by biting, though I believe blood-to-blood contact would work just the same.”

“At first we thought it was just some nutters,” Andy spoke up. “We had ‘em rounded up at the police station because they were going round attacking people. But, they bit some of the officers and then they went looney, and before we knew it the entire station was overrun. It’s mad up there.”

The Doctor took over the keyboard from Ianto and started paging through the information on the virus, Martha watching from over his shoulder. From the corner of his eye, Jack watched as Gwen approached the TARDIS with a fascinated expression.

“How far’s it spread?”

“Worldwide,” Martha said.

Ianto tapped away at another computer, pulling up an automated report he must have left running. “At worst calculation, sixty percent of the world’s population has been affected. I’ve been getting reports from all over the globe. They’re doing much the same as we are and packing everyone into military installations. Anyone outside has a chance of survival, but it’s slim.”

A thought came to Jack’s mind and he looked over at Ianto. “Your sister?”

“They went to St. Athan. Got out before the worst of it.”

“Good.”

“How fast is it spreading?” The Doctor cut in.

“About one percent per hour,” Ianto answered after tapping at his keyboard once more to pull up the figures.

Gwen was circling the TARDIS, her fingers brushing over the blue-painted wood.

Martha pointed at the image of the virus on screen. “This is some really advanced stuff. I’ve never seen the like of it. I can’t tell if it’s a mutation of an existing virus or something completely new.”

“I think new,” the Doctor said as he peered in closer. “History’s never had something like this pop up before.” He tapped at the keyboard to rotate the image. “Do we know where it started?”

“Here in Cardiff,” Jack said. “We can trace the first attacks back to here.”

Gwen stuck her head inside the open door of the TARDIS and then quickly pulled it back out. Jack, Martha, and the Doctor all grinned at each other briefly and mouthed the words along with Gwen. “It’s bigger on the inside.”

“I think I know where they originated.”

They all turned to face Ianto. Pictures started appearing on the large monitor, twelve faces, a mix of age, gender, and race, followed by the website for a pharmaceutical company.

“MKT Tech. A pharmaceutical company located between Cardiff and Bristol. Yesterday morning they brought in this lot for a drug trial. Seven of the patients were reported missing by sundown, three of them were arrested for inciting violence.”

“They created zombies,” the Doctor said with awe in his voice. “What will you humans think of next?”

“Unfortunately, that’s as far as I’ve gotten,” Ianto said with a frown. “Their security is more than our automatic programs can crack, and I’m no Toshiko.”

“Let me try.” The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the machine. In seconds, a login box appeared. Letters scrolled through the text fields for a few seconds before the box blinked away, leaving them with a window into the company’s network. The computer continued to act on its owns, opening and closing files faster than the eye could read.

“Blast.” The Doctor smacked his fist against the desk in frustration, causing Ianto and Rhys to both jump slightly. “If it’s on their computers, it’s not web-accessible. They must be keeping their notes locally.”

Jack smiled and checked his holster and sheathe. “Looks like it’s time for a field trip.”

*****

The TARDIS landed them square in the center of the MKT facility. Papers rattled as the doors whooshed open, but that was the only thing they heard as they stepped out into vacant halls.

“Oh, this is Ground Zero, alright,” the Doctor muttered to himself. He stared at the intersection carefully before running off in one direction. “This way.”

Jack, Ianto, and Martha followed him.

“What are we looking for?” Ianto asked.

“Survivors,” the Doctor called back.

“Not likely,” Jack pointed out. “We’re looking for medical documents. They’d keep them in a special testing facility, everything together. Probably set apart from the other labs for privacy.”

The Doctor skidded to a halt at a T intersection. Multiple arrows pointed to several labs to the left, but only one lab to the right. “This way!” He dashed to the right.

Blood spattered the walls of the corridor, growing more profuse the closer they got.

“I think we’re heading the right way,” Ianto commented softly. Jack squeezed his arm in reassurance.

The Doctor was ahead of them all. He pounded through the double doors at the end of the hall and then doubled over gagging. They caught a whiff of the smell seconds later and similarly gagged.

“Good lords, what is that smell?” Martha asked.

“Bodies.” That was all the Doctor would say. He started back, closing the doors behind him.

There was a metal door to the side of the big double doors and the Doctor paused at it. His sonic screwdriver made quick work of the electric lock, revealing an orderly office on the other side of the door.

Jack started towards the double doors, curious what had made the Doctor turn.

“Don’t,” a stern voice warned him. The Doctor’s eyes had a hint of pleading as he stared at Jack. “It’s the clinic. No files, just bodies.”

He stared at the closed doors. “Where it all started…” After a second’s pause, he turned and followed Ianto into the office.

“Split up,” the Doctor ordered. “Look through everything.”

The Doctor stepped over to the first computer, Martha to the second, which left Jack and Ianto with a wall of filing cabinets. Ianto cursed as he pulled the first one open.

“Of course they don’t even have a bloody system.”

Jack shot him a grin. “I think you’ve spoiled me for unorganized files.”

Ianto grinned back. “Now if only you could learn to file things properly on your own.”

“I don’t need to. That’s what I have you for. Well, that and other things.” He leered at Ianto suggestively.

“Oi, you two.” The Doctor shot him a half-glare. “No flirting.”

Jack grinned back and let his hand brush down Ianto’s back to linger on his ass, loving the way the move made Ianto shiver. “Oh, we’re well past flirting.”

“Save it for later,” Ianto warned, before the Doctor could.

“I like him,” the Doctor said with a grin.

They worked quietly for several minutes. Ianto and Jack formed a pile of possibilities on the floor between them. It was strange how quiet the place was. Normally, when he was breaking into a place like this, he had to worry about being stealthy and not alerting the guards. But the guards would be long gone from here, as was everyone else. They were either dead or undead, and either way they wouldn’t be worried about guarding files.

“Got it!” The Doctor crowed suddenly. ” X1B12 Omega. That’s what we’re looking for.”

Ianto froze. “I saw that.” He dropped to his knees and started rifling through the files, pulling out the very bottom one. “Of course! They organized chronologically.”

“Hand it here.”

Ianto handed a stack of papers about two inches thick over to the Doctor, who thumbed through them quickly before nodding in satisfaction. “This is what we need. I’ve got an idea, but we’re going to need a test subject to try it out.”

“We just so happen to have one, locked in one of the cells at the Hub.”

“Always one step ahead,” the Doctor grinned at him. “No time to waste. Let’s go!”

*****

“Okay, I think we’ve got it.” With Martha’s help, the Doctor pulled a vial of glowing red liquid from the beaker currently bubbling away at one of the lab stations.

“This way.”

Jack led them down to the cell they currently had the zombie chained up in. The few Weevils in the nearby cells all moaned and huddled away from the creature. It stared at them as the plastic door slid open and hissed low in its throat.

“Someone’s going to have to keep it still,” the Doctor instructed.

Jack grabbed the zombie by its hair, glad for the extra layer of protection of thick gloves between his skin and the zombie. He really didn’t want to find out what his immortality would do versus a zombie virus. The zombie snarled at him and tried to thrash but Jack held it still while the Doctor gently inserted the syringe in its throat, careful to keep his hands away from the eagerly gnashing teeth. When the Doctor was done they both stepped back and waited.

It took a moment for anything to happen. One moment the creature was trying to bite at them, then suddenly it froze, arched its back and howled. Tremors overtook its body and it pulled against its restraints for a few seconds before suddenly falling still.

“Let’s get it back to the lab, where we can analyze it,” Jack said.

He and Ianto each reached for one of the wrist restraints. Suddenly, without warning, it lunged. Time slowed for Jack, like he was watching a stop-motion film. He saw the zombie lunge for Ianto, saw its teeth latch onto his skin and bit down, hard enough to break skin. Distantly, he heard Ianto scream. The Doctor caught him as he fell and pulled him back, out of the creature’s reach. Ianto left a thin trail of blood in his wake as he was dragged from the room.

“It didn’t work.” The Doctor cursed loudly.

“Try it again,” Jack ordered as he crossed the cell in two quick strides and pounded on the button to close up the cell. “You must have missed something. Make a new batch and try it again.”

Martha was cradling Ianto’s head in her lap. He looked drawn, pale. “How long’s he got?” She asked worriedly.

Jack was not going to allow this to happen, not on his watch.

“Anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour. Incubation seems to depend on the severity of the wound.”

The Doctor glanced pointedly at Ianto’s arm. It looked like it might be broken in two places. “That’s pretty severe.”

“Then we don’t have much time.”

He bent down and cradled Ianto in his arms before standing, lifting Ianto into a carrying position. Ianto whimpered as his arm was jostled but didn’t seem to wake from the haze he’d fallen into. Jack moved quickly towards the medical bay, worrying about speed over comfort and wincing along with Ianto every time he jostled Ianto too much.

“Think, Doctor. What did you miss?”

The Doctor stared at the chemicals laid out on the tray. He was muttering to himself, but it wasn’t in English and too low for Jack to distinguish what alien language he might be speaking. Seconds turned into minutes. Jack brushed Ianto’s hair away from his face as he tried not to yell. They needed to do something, fast.

“Got it!”

Three more compounds went into the bubbling beaker. It exploded slightly, sending smoke up in a puff of air and then shifted into a light blue.

Ianto moaned, his breath turning shallow, weaker. Martha had fastened a heart monitor to him and its beeps were growing more and more distant. Beep. Beep. Pause. Beep. Longer pause. Beep. They were losing him.

The Doctor extracted some of the medicine from the beaker and stepped over, pressing the needle into Ianto’s neck just as the heart monitor flat-lined.

“No,” Jack said. “No, no, no.”

They waited, breath caught in their throat to see if Ianto was going to rise to join the ranks of the undead. A full minute passed and then suddenly the heart monitor beeped loudly, causing them all to jump. It beeped again, and again, climbing back to a steady rhythm. Ianto gasped for breath but didn’t wake. Jack pressed a hand to Ianto’s face. He felt warm, alive.

“You did it,” Jack said.

The Doctor scribbled a note on a piece of paper and handed it to Martha. “Get this broadcast as far as you can. Let people know there’s a cure, and then we’ll start making as much of it as we can.”

As he ran his hands through Ianto’s hair, Jack could only think of one thing to say. “Thank you, Doctor.”

*****

Ianto Jones woke with a pounding headache. He sat up slowly. His arm hurt too, he realized, and he couldn’t move it. He glanced down at the cast that covered his right arm and couldn’t quite remember how he’d hurt himself.

Something strange niggled at the back of his mind, something important. He was home, in his own bed. That was wrong somehow.

Realization hit him suddenly and he jumped to his feet, or tried to at least. It didn’t work so well, so all he really ended up doing was flailing a bit in his sheets and making his arm smart more. He needed to get out of here, get back to the Hub before the zombies found him. What was he even doing here? Where was Jack?

As if summoned by his thoughts, Jack appeared in the doorway. He quickly crossed over to Ianto and forced him back to bed. “Calm down. Stay still. You’re hurt.”

“Jack, what are we doing here? What about the zombies?”

“They’ve been contained.”

From the tone of Jack’s voice and the glint in his eyes, Ianto wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to know what that meant.

“So it’s over?”

Jack nodded. “We… well, the Doctor found a cure. You were the test subject, proof that it works. We managed to distribute it to all the major populations centers, and then the military took out the ones too far gone to save.”

Ianto stared at Jack. Had he slept through the entire thing? “How long have I been out?”

Jack shrugged. “A couple days. We had you in the Hub until Cardiff was cleared. Just moved you here last night.” He paused for a moment. “Your sister and her family are safe by the way. They’re with the others returning today.”

“So all the zombies are gone?”

“A few stragglers here and there, but the Doctor and I are working on a detection system for them, a way we can hunt down the last of them.”

Ianto considered that. It seemed so simple once they’d brought the Doctor in.

“What now?”

Jack smiled at him and kissed Ianto on the forehead. “Now, you and I take some much needed days off, which I fully intend to spend in bed, with you.”

Practicality and need warred inside of Ianto. “Jack… my arm…”

Jack cut him off with a kiss. “We’ll work around it.”

Ianto smiled. That was perhaps the best idea he’d heard all week.

Jul 18 2009

Those Who Inherit the Earth

They called it “Nimueh’s Curse”, though she was only one of a dozen who cast the curse that ruined Camelot and took the rest of the world with it. It left a visible mark on the world, and ruined Merlin’s life in the process. All he’d been carefully building up – his life in Camelot, Arthur’s trust and the burgeoning… something between them – had been shattered by her treachery.

Merlin carefully picked his way through the rubble that remained of the castle, moving as slowly and quietly as he possibly cold. The sun was still up, likely would be for a few more hours though it was hard to get an accurate sense of the time of day in the ever-present gloom. A red haze of clouds covered the sky, casting the land all around Merlin in a pink hue. So far, he had yet to encounter any of the usual creatures but he had his shields up just in case.

The shields had become a way of life for Merlin. They were a subconscious part of him, as automatic as breathing. He could and had maintained them in his sleep, a feat which had saved his life on more than one occasion. Without the shields, he would have died months ago. They kept him hidden from all senses, invisible and yet free to roam around. They let him walk amidst the multitude of monsters that now roamed the land unheeded.

Merlin pushed aside the boards blocking the partially collapsed hallway in front of him. If he remembered his geography correctly, this path would lead towards where the kitchens used to be. Hopefully, there would be something salvageable. He’d already picked through the parts of the city that hadn’t been completely overrun with monsters. Only the castle remained. He’d saved it for last partly because it was the worst of the wreckage and thus the hardest to pick through, but also because he was reluctant to face the memories it held.

The boards fell to the ground with a bang.

A noise nearby made Merlin freeze. Rocks clattered and a pointed nose appeared over a pile of rubble beside the castle wall. It sniffed audibly once, twice, and then the head appeared. A long pink tongue flicked out to taste the air. Merlin shifted as far as he could back against the wall. The serpent that slithered towards him looked much like a standard gecko but was twice the size of a full-grown bear and three times as long. It passed barely a hand’s-breadth away from him, sniffing avidly at the fallen boards and peering down the hallway for several long minutes.

Merlin kept still, barely breathing until the creature finally turned away, ambling back over the ridge without a backwards glance. As soon as it was gone, he let out the breath he was holding. He glanced around, making sure there were no other creatures around before starting down the hallway. A globe of light flickered into life in front of him, illuminating all the way to the end of the hall.

The one and only benefit of the cataclysm was Merlin’s magic. It seemed like he was full of it now, so much that if he went long without using it, it felt like it would burst out of him on its own. His eyes never stopped glowing now. That’s how he’d been caught. He couldn’t hide the fact that he was a wizard anymore, not when it was evident to all who cared to look. Even now, he still remembered how Arthur had looked – so shocked, so disappointed. He’d betrayed Arthur, a crime for which he doubted the other man would ever forgive him.

The hallway ended in a T. One branch was blocked with rubble, the other ended in a cliff bordering on a large, dark maw. His memory failed him on which was the proper way. Merlin pressed his hands against the wall before him and whispered his intent, the strange language of magic rolling easily off his tongue. It seemed the only time he spoke these days were for magic. No need, really, when there was no one to talk to.

Images appeared in his mind. Sound and scent came with it as he pulled out memories from the stone. He saw servants smiling as they walked down still-intact corridors, oblivious of the future that awaited him. The smell of roast duck and savory herbs wafted towards him from the right. He knew his path.

Merlin stepped off the cliff without hesitation. The air held him, as firm as stone as he crossed the chasm to the thankfully whole hallway on the other side. Two short turns down dusty hallways brought him to the kitchen. The hearth wall had collapsed, but the door to the cellar stores remained. Merlin pressed his ear to the wood, listening carefully before opening it. Rot and mold assailed his senses and Merlin gagged. He pressed his sleeve over his nose and mouth as he pushed forward.

Magic opened crate after crate for him, bags and barrels, casks and jugs. The good was sorted from the bad, the former pile dishearteningly small. Hours passed as he sorted through all the food the castle had once held. Once it was all done, he shut the cellar door, blocking out at least part of the stench. Another muttered spell gave him the time – it was past sunset. He could press on, start his journey back to the mountains, but he didn’t fancy trying to pick his way through the castle rubble at night. There were more monsters out then, more to pay attention to and it had been a long day.

He didn’t dare light a fire, just in case there were other tunnels that lead down. He could stretch his shields to cover a campfire but they’d do little to hide the smoke that would rise up, a sure sign of life in the deserted hallways, and he didn’t fancy having to wait out another monster. Instead, he found a relatively clean corner of the room, one that afforded him a good view of both entrances to the kitchen and sat back against the wall.

It was a long time before he fell asleep, the tug of old memories stirring in his mind.

*****

Animated chatter from the tunnels towards the surface brought Arthur awake. Bedeviere and Gawain were already rolling out of their pallets as Arthur sat up. One of the tunnel night guard, Jezebel, was speaking to the sentry, Damien, enthusiasm raising the volume of her voice. Arthur stood quickly. Happiness like that could only mean one thing. A motion of his had had the rest of Arthur’s knights rising, and they in turn woke the rest of the hall. Men and women followed him up the tunnels while Jezebel danced on ahead.

He understood her enthusiasm as soon as they reached the cave mouth. One side of the tunnel was already filling with goods. There were more boxes and barrels and sacks of food than they’d ever seen, enough to keep them going on their own for months – assuming the provisions were kept from spoiling. He knew they wouldn’t. Something Merlin did to their supplies kept them from going bad, even weeks after they rightly should.

People – his people – swarmed the goods, exclaiming in joy at every new thing they found. Merlin had done well by them. There was plenty of grain and meat. He’d even managed to find fresh fruits and vegetables, a near miracle ever since Nimueh’s Curse had wrecked the land.

Arthur kept apart from the masses swarming over the goods, watching as they carried the food back down the tunnel, much like a line of ants would carry scraps away from the kitchen. His feet carried him to the edge of the tunnel and he stopped just at the border. It shimmered with a strange blue light every time another crate floated through. He was tempted to bring his hand up and touch it, to run his fingers over the magic that kept them hidden, kept them alive. He didn’t. There were too many eyes watching.

The outside world was dark, but he heard things moving about. Merlin was out there somewhere, hidden by the same magical shields that protected the entrance to the tunnels that had been Arthur’s home since the destruction of Camelot, and he wasn’t alone. There was a part of Arthur that wanted to grab his sword and charge out there to fight the monsters that surrounded him. It wasn’t right that Merlin was out there alone. It wasn’t right that he stayed here, safe, while Merlin faced those creatures day after day.

The larger, more sensible part of himself knew it would be suicide to leave the mountainside. He’d fought monsters before, but not like this. Bravery was all well and good when they came at him one at a time, but there were swarms of monsters out there, thousands of them, and his sword would be of little use to him against them. He was better served inside. He had people to watch over now, and though he wasn’t a king, he served them like one.

If he was going to die, he’d do so defending his people, not chasing after fool wizards.

Still, that didn’t stop that small part of him from reminding him how much he missed Merlin, even if he was a wizard.

*****

The south lands were as desolate as the region beyond Camelot had been. Farms lay abandoned and in waste, but he managed to pick up a few things here and there to take back to the mountains. He’d found several stores of seed, and while they weren’t edible, there was a possibility he could set up a place for the plants to grow, maybe in one of the lower caves or in a shielded section along the slope. He felt slightly bad about raiding strangers’ homes, but he knew that no one would be back to claim the lost belongings.

He traveled south for nearly two weeks, working his way through over a dozen farmsteads and into the neighboring kingdom. For the most part, his journey was a quiet one. Dragon-like birds flew overhead, searching for prey. Twice he’d had to stop and backtrack to work his way around the obvious signs of a monster’s den. On the twelfth day, he spotted a keep off in the distance and altered his route to take him to it. That’d be the last stop, he decided, before he turned back and delivered his current haul of goods.

A twig snapped in the distance and he paused, bringing the sacks floating in a line behind him close around him. He waited, senses alert, to catch sight of whatever creature passed by. As good as his shields were, they did little to stop monsters from trying to trample over him and even the dumbest of creatures could figure out when they had a human between their toes.

Leaves parted with a faint rustle to his right. Slowly, figures emerged from the trees, growing sharper as they approached. It took Merlin’s brain several minutes to process what he was seeing, and even then he rubbed at his eyes to make sure he wasn’t delusional. There were humans. Humans in the woods. Living, breathing, still-alive humans.

Merlin took a step towards them, then froze again as a loud roar cut across the still forest. Birds scattered and he watched as the humans shared a quick glance before bolting towards the keep. They weren’t fast enough. A huge creature jumped out of the woods to land just a short distance behind the last in line, its mouth opening larger than the full height of a human as it roared. Two rows of wickedly pointed teeth were revealed before it snapped its mouth shut with a loud clap. The thing looked like two bears stacked on top of each other and melted together. Four legs propelled it forward, another four set halfway up its mottled furry skin to reach towards the human before it. It had a single bear’s head at the front of it, though its head was stretched abnormally large and squat.

The first of the men turned, lifting their spears as they moved and throwing. Two went wide, one glanced off, another struck the creature in the arm and stuck there. The creature howled in pain and swatted angrily at the closest of the men, sending him flying in a spray of blood. The other men turned and started to circle the creature. Those who had already cast their spears drew swords. One stopped to check on the felled man, moving on as soon as it was evident he was dead.

There were seven of them now versus the bear creature. They were unmatched and in short time, the creature would slaughter them.

Merlin dropped his shield, letting the goods drop into a loose pile not far from him. He chanted as the second volley of spears were launched. Their tips glowed blue and they fell true, burying deep in the creature’s skin. Blue fire erupted around each shaft, growing until it consumed the creature. It reared back on its hind legs and howled for several long minutes before falling over, dead.

“Merlin!”

He turned sharply as one of the men separated from his fellows to approach Merlin at a run, arms open wide in greeting. Shock kept Merlin in place as recognition hit him.

Lancelot’s arms came around him and held Merlin tight for several long minutes. Lancelot was speaking, saying something in greeting but the words fell on deaf ears. After a while, Lancelot pulled away to hold Merlin at arms length, obviously studying the changes in Merlin’s features. He seemed just as shocked as Merlin was to run into someone familiar.

“Merlin, your arrival is a blessing!” Merlin was pulled into another impromptu hug before he had a chance to order his thoughts enough to reply.

“Hi,” he said slowly. His voice sounded strange to his ears, slightly gravelly with disuse.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive. And… Arthur?”

Merlin glanced at the men who’d been travelling with Lancelot. They had noticed the golden glow in Merlin’s eyes by now, and their expressions ranged from curiosity to distrust.

“He’s alive.” He held up a finger to forestall further questions while he concentrated. He formed the shields in a wide dome around them. They appeared with an audible pop, a blue shimmer delimitating their exact end. “That will keep us hidden from anything else that’s lurking.”

Lancelot clapped him heartily on the shoulder. “Amazing. I can’t believe our fortune in finding you.”

“Indeed. It’s good to see you again, old friend.”

“Come.” Lancelot gestured towards the keep. “Meet the others and tell us what you’ve seen.”

“Wait.”

The men watched curiously as Merlin walked over to the creature’s carcass. The spears pulled themselves free, broken shafts straightening, and then flew back to land at their owner’s feet. A section of skin peeled back, revealing the meat beneath. He concentrated and a small chunk of meat floated up to his hand. Closing his eyes, he tested it. The meat was dropped with a curse seconds later.

“Poisoned,” he explained to the men watching him.

With a wave of his hand the supplies he’d already foraged lifted themselves and waited at the ready.

“Marvelous,” Lancelot beamed at him. He clapped Merlin once more on the shoulder as they fell in line and started towards the keep.

Every so often one of the men would glance back at the floating sacks behind them, the few remaining expressions of distrust slowly shifting to wonder as Lancelot reminisced aloud of their days in Camelot.

*****

Excited whispers spread through the hall as Lancelot led Merlin into the keep dungeons. The prison cells stood open, turned into makeshift sleeping quarters for a huddled mass of survivors. They took in his eyes with startled gasps that turned into hushed conversations and wary stares. He had a feeling that Lancelot’s arm around his shoulders was the only thing that kept some of them from bolting like startled rabbits.

“Everyone,” Lancelot addressed the motley group with a wide grin on his face, “this is Merlin. He’s from Camelot. Prince Arthur’s friend, and mine as well. He saved our lives today, has saved mine a few times before, and, best of all, he’s brought us food!”

At the mention of food, they surged forward. Lancelot’s men parceled out bits from three of the sacks, handing over apples and carrots and dried jerky like it was Holy Communion. These people were starved. Merlin had to wonder what kind of scraps they’d been living off of so far. What little of the keep’s stores that had survived the cataclysm must be long depleted by now, or close to it. Merlin counted a good twenty mouths to feed, plus Lancelot’s men.

They settled into a rough circle with people lining the edges of the cells while Merlin and Lancelot took seats on the stairs. There were two guards down here, one on each end of the hall at the iron doors, and another seven scattered strategically through the upper halls of the keep as sentries. Lancelot was obviously the commander of this group. It was fitting. He had the air of command about him. Had he been allowed a place in the knights, he likely would have been Arthur’s equal.

“Tell us,” Lancelot asked once all were settled and food was dispersed, “what news do you have of Camelot? How many are left there?”

Merlin glanced down at the apple in his hands, the only food he’d accepted out of the stores. He wasn’t sure whether what he could tell them would be considered good news or bad. Still, all that was left was the truth. Lies would keep no one alive.

“In Camelot, none. The castle was the center of Nimueh’s attack. It’s destroyed and overrun.”

“Nimueh?”

So they hadn’t heard. “A sorceress. One with a grudge against King Uther since the day of Arthur’s birth, who vowed to destroy Camelot and all that Uther loved.”

Lancelot frowned. “Given Uther’s position on sorcery, that doesn’t really narrow it down.”

Merlin should have smiled at it, but he didn’t have humor enough left in him to honor the joke. “I know. She wasn’t alone. There were more with her when she stormed the castle. They killed half the guard on their way in, more as they tried to break their circle. They took over the throne room and started chanting.”

The memory of that day flooded back to him and Merlin nearly choked once more with the fumes their magic let out. He coughed once to clear his throat. Someone passed him a waterskin and he drank sparingly. He only needed a little. Best to save the rest for others. There were others who needed it more.

“They used old magic. Dark magic, the likes of which I’d never seen. The Old Ways, the true magic, this,” he gestured to his glowing eyes, “that comes from the earth. It’s part of nature. What they used was deeper than that. It came from the stars, from the darkness between them. They brought it to the earth and opened… opened a rift to someplace unseen, a dark and evil place, and they called forth monsters from it. But that wasn’t all. The magic they used, the magic they brought through the rift changed them, changed everything. It clouded the sky red, it polluted the land until naught can grow. In their thirst for vengeance against King Uther, they not only destroyed Camelot, but the rest of the world with it.”

Silence met his words. He watched them process it, waited for comprehension to dawn on their faces, followed swiftly by horror.

One woman spoke what they were all thinking, her voice trembling. “The rest…”

Merlin said nothing. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Lancelot looked like he’d been punched in the gut. He turned to Merlin. “You mean there’s nothing? Nothing out there? No hope? But… but you said Arthur was still alive.”

Merlin nodded. “He is. About three dozen managed to make it out of the castle. They were attacked… Eighteen remain. They made it to the mountains. I… with my shields, I can hide things, people. You can’t see or smell or hear anything under them, so the monsters couldn’t find them. There are tunnels in the mountains. Deep tunnels that don’t connect except by one entrance. They’re hiding there.” He gestured at the sacks of food. “That’s what this is for. For them. The entrance has a permanent set of shields on it. It’ll stay up even if…” I die. “Even if something happens to me.”

He could see more questions burning in Lancelot’s mind but he kept them to himself.

“Could you take us there?”

All eyes in the hall turned to the little girl who spoke. She seemed to be all of twelve at best, with long curly hair that was matted with mud. Her dress was ragged and she had a stuffed rabbit hugged to her chest.

“Can we go there? To where it’s safe?”

Merlin blinked. He counted through their number once more. The shields should be able to stretch wide enough.

“I can.”

The reaction was instantaneous. Merlin started as the hall broke into loud, boisterous cheers. Quickly, he stretched his shields to circle the dungeon, cutting off the sound from any outside listeners. He vehemently hoped there wasn’t anything lurking in earshot but their celebration dragged on without any interruption from the sentries.

“You don’t seem so happy about that,” Lancelot said in a whisper low enough that only he could hear.

He answered in kind. “I’m a bit unused to anyone being happy about travelling out there, especially with a wizard.”

Lancelot gave him a once-over. “Is that why Arthur’s not with you?”

Merlin flushed at the censure in Lancelot’s voice and hastily jumped to defend Arthur. “He has his people to watch over. He’s needed where he is.”

“But not you?” Lancelot pressed. “I imagine they’d do quite well with a wizard at their side.”

He couldn’t look at Lancelot. The would-be-knight knew him too well. It felt like all of Merlin’s emotions were plain across his face, as bare as the stone walls surrounding them.

“I… I’m best served out here. I can walk unheeded, gather supplies. I’m keeping them alive with what I scavenge.”

“Arthur’s turned out just like his dad, hasn’t he? He carries the same prejudices as his father.”

“No!” People were starting to notice their argument. He dropped his voice back down to a whisper. “No, it’s not like that. Sorcerers destroyed his home. They destroyed everything. I can’t blame him, or anyone, from hating what I am.”

Lancelot gripped him tightly by the arm and turned Merlin to face him. “And what are you, Merlin? I’ll tell you. You’re their bloody savior.”

He pulled free of Lancelot’s grasp and stood, backing up the stone steps.

“Not everyone sees it the way you do, Lancelot.”

Before Lancelot could say anything, he turned and ran up the stairs, vanishing under a second set of shields as soon as he was out of sight.

*****

The view from the top of the keep would have been impressive in pre-cataclysm days. There was still a beauty to it, but it was marred by the red sky and the withered, dying land below. In the distance an animal screeched. He couldn’t tell if it was hunting or dying. It didn’t matter.

He was, perhaps, being a bit unfair to Lancelot. No doubt, he’d be looking for Merlin. That thought alone was enough to make Merlin feel guilty under normal circumstances. Now, it was just plain dangerous. He didn’t trust this broken keep. Who knew what slept in the abandoned halls, or what had crawled in while they’d been celebrating.

Footsteps pounding up the stairwell signaled that he had little to worry about, at least for Lancelot’s sake. He stretched his shields to cover the top of the tower and waited until Lancelot reached the doorway before speaking. Magic had made his senses sharper. He didn’t need to turn to tell where Lancelot was. He kept his back to the man, unsure whether he was ready to face whatever emotion had brought Lancelot chasing after him.

“You should be more careful. If you make too much noise, you’ll attract the monsters’ attention.”

“Sorry.” Lancelot didn’t sound it, not in the least bit. “I had other things on my mind.”

Merlin bit back the lecture that sprung to his lips. Telling Lancelot to be cautious was about as useful as telling the rain to stop falling. His brow furrowed as a strange thought crossed his mind. How long had it been since he’d last seen the rain? How long since there’d been any weather really, anything besides the still air and thick red cloud cover?

Lancelot’s footsteps thudded loudly towards him and all he could think about was how much noise he was making that would attract the monsters, had Merlin not been here to shield him.

“You don’t have to come with me, you know,” Merlin said as Lancelot reached the halfway point across the tower roof. “I can make the keep safe for you and your group. I can protect you like I protect the mountains.”

“You can’t,” Lancelot said, and Merlin knew it to be the truth. “The monsters know we’re here. More and more appear in the forests every day. They’re hunting us, following our trail back here, and it’s not long until we’ll be overrun. I would have led everyone out of here by now, but it would have been suicide. We need your help Merlin, and don’t pretend for a minute that you’re the kind of man who’d walk away from that.”

“I’m not,” he agreed.

Lancelot stopped less than a foot behind him. He could feel the other man’s warmth against his back like a palatable force. As much as he tried to deny it, he’d missed this, this closeness. It’d been months since he’d been this close to another human being. But, as comforting as Lancelot’s presence was, Merlin couldn’t help but wish it was another standing behind him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend. He didn’t. He’d given up on delusions of salvation long ago.

“What’s wrong with you, Merlin?”

He turned then to stare at Lancelot curiously. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”

Lancelot frowned at him, his eyes dark and concerned. “You’re not fine, Merlin. Have you looked at yourself recently?”

“I’m afraid mirrors are a bit hard to come by these days.”

The joke did nothing to alleviate the tension between them.

Lancelot shifted closer and pressed Merlin’s robe to his sides, his hands resting just above Merlin’s hips. The robe went in a lot more than it used to. All his clothes seemed larger these days.

“You’re skin and bones, Merlin. Pale, too. All this time taking care of the people that threw you out, did you even bother to try and take care of yourself too?”

He pushed Lancelot’s hands away and kept his eyes averted. It wasn’t that bad. Maybe he forgot a meal or two, but that just meant the survivors from Camelot had a little more food for themselves, a little more to keep them going until Merlin found something better for them. He felt fine. He wasn’t tired, magic saw to that. It filled his energy where his body failed, shoring up his reserves for when he really needed them. He’d lost weight, sure, but he was constantly walking. Obviously it was just a side effect of it. He’d gained muscle too, though that did little to fill him out.

“I’m fine,” he protested. “Really. I’m not sick, and I’m not neglecting myself.” Hesitantly, he looked up at Lancelot. He was getting tired. It must be night now, though there was no discernable difference in the sky to mark the transition. “Would it make you feel better if we went back inside and I proved it? I’ll eat another apple and we’ll both get some sleep.”

Lancelot didn’t seem fully convinced, but he nodded anyways. “Come morning, we’ll set out for the mountains.”

*****

It was strange travelling with someone, let alone several someones. At least they didn’t seem too disconcerted by the sacks of food that floated after them, and they all had the sense enough to understand not to cross the shimmery blue line that marked the edge of the shield. It was slower going that Merlin was used to. No one complained. They barely made a sound, as if they didn’t trust the shields to protect them. Half the time, Merlin didn’t either. They were constantly on guard, waiting for something to leap out of the brush after them. A few times they saw creatures in the distance, but nothing came close enough to bother them.

They made it almost all the way to the mountains without incident, just three days shy and close to a quarter of the provisions gone. Amelia, the small little girl with the bunny toy, dropped her toy and didn’t notice until the group had moved a short ways past it. Merlin was in front, leading the way, so he didn’t see the girl running backwards. He felt it though, when she passed through the rear shields. Panic filled him, but he told himself it wasn’t that bad. That thought lasted barely a minute until a creature roared nearby.

“No!”

He ran backwards, Lancelot just a pace behind him and already drawing his sword. Amelia picked up her bunny and screamed as a large lizard jumped out of the brush to land between her and the group. It reached for her. Merlin was faster. He passed through the rear shields, not wasting the time to cover himself before he sent a bolt of pure blue fire straight at the creature. It roared in pain and turned, sweeping out with claws and tail. The tail missed him, the claws didn’t.

Merlin caught a brief glimpse of Lancelot and his men attacking the creature before he smacked hard into the trunk of a tree. His head hit the wood and he fell. He felt his shields slipping and strengthened them. He heard Lancelot fighting and enchanted their weapons. Bits of sound and smells and sight drifted in through the black haze that surrounded him, coming in disjointed bursts. People were yelling, he was being lifted, set vertical. He was moving to the sounds of fierce whispers. Every time the shields started to shift, he pushed more energy at them, tied them to him until it didn’t matter if he was awake or sleeping, they’d still hold.

Vaguely, he was aware of pain and blood and a bone-deep tiredness that pushed him down into the darkness. Sometimes he thought it was the same darkness the creatures came from, could feel the things left behind reach for him with their talons and tentacles, and he screamed, struggling to claw his way up and out of it until he woke to the feeling to cloth beneath his cheek and strong arms around him. Sometimes he dreamed of the way things were before, when Arthur had shared smiles at him and they’d teased one another. There’d been a secret game between them, one neither of them ever spoke of, but was understood in the brush of fingers as Merlin handed Arthur his goblet, in the way Arthur’s eyes would follow him as he left the room, or the way they were always, always there to save the other.

The dreams went on and on, and a part of him knew they weren’t right or natural. He needed to wake up. A part of his body understood that and as he felt his shields merge with permanent ones, he let them slip away and turned his magic to unraveling the strange poison that filled his veins.

*****

“Get out of the way.”

Arthur froze at the familiar voice echoing down the tunnels towards them. The pounding of feet sounded from above, growing closer and closer, and before Arthur had time to cross the large cavern towards them, Lancelot appeared, him and another man carrying a liter between them. On that liter was a man so pale and drawn that it took Arthur a moment to recognize him as Merlin.

“I need a bed,” Lancelot shouted.

People scurried to comply but Arthur answered first. “Over here.”

He directed them to Arthur’s own bed, helped as they shifted Merlin from the liter to the small straw pallet on the floor. Merlin felt too light.

“What happened?”

“We were attacked,” Lancelot supplied. He was pulling at Merlin’s shirt, unwinding the bloodied fabric beneath them. His gaze turned up to Arthur. “I need fresh bandages. Clean water and herbs if you have them. We didn’t.”

People were bringing them forward almost before Lancelot had even asked. Others shifted closer to help where they could, holding Merlin up while Lancelot and Arthur peeled away the bloodstained shirt and bandages he wore, taking away the water when it turned red with the blood they’d washed away and bringing more along with clean cloth. Maria was their best medic, and she coated the four long gashes on Merlin’s chest with a pungent green salve that smelled strong enough to make both him and Lancelot gag.

When they settled Merlin back against the thin sheet, he seemed to be resting at least a little bit easier. They both stood quietly. A hush had fallen over the cave, a respectful silence for the ill wizard that slept amongst them.

The punch came with no warning. Arthur bit back a curse and grabbed Lancelot by the front of his shirt, dragging him to the lower tunnels before he dared say anything.

“What the hell’s your problem?”

“You shouldn’t have left him out there alone.”

Arthur’s anger died, snuffed like a candle’s flame in a gale. His gaze fell to the floor and stayed fixed there.

“I know.”

“You owe him your lives! You’d be dead, we’d all be dead if it wasn’t for him.”

“I know.” Guilt pooled in Arthur’s stomach. It wasn’t the first time it’d done so.

“He nearly died, protecting us. He would die, if it meant we’d all be saved. All that magic, all that travelling, looking for food,” Lancelot spit the word out like it was a curse, “it’s killing him. He’s exhausting himself, all for you.”

“I know.”

Lancelot shoved Arthur in the shoulder, obviously looking for a fight. Arthur offered no resistance. He deserved it, after what he’d done to Merlin. If he lost Merlin….

“How can you still hate him after all that he’s done for you?”

Arthur looked up then, meeting Lancelot’s gaze with a look that drove the other man back a step. “I don’t. I never hated him. Ever.”

Something inside Lancelot softened. “Then why send him out there alone?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur answered honestly. “I was mad at first. Nim-Nimueh had destroyed my home, our home. We were all injured, all grieving for the dead. My father… Morgana… Gwen… Gaius… I was mad at Merlin because he never trusted me enough to tell me what he was. I thought we were… friends.” He’d hoped they were more than that.

“Why didn’t you let him back in?”

Arthur looked Lancelot straight in the eye. “He never gave me the chance.”

*****

Merlin dreamed of people, so many people, all around him, full of life. He dreamed of water, of rivers cut through rock and pools, an underground lake. He dreamed of earth and stone and trees, of sunlight and fresh air. In his dreams there was a song. It was an old song. He didn’t know the words but they were familiar, as was the tune. He started humming it, and felt the earth shift closer to match his dream. Skin knit, drawing together until he was whole again.

It was quiet in the cave when he woke. Night time. They were asleep. He could feel them, like dim stars all around him. Stretching his awareness, he felt more. Two guards at the entrance, more at the branches that went deeper into the mountain.

He moved slowly at first, fingers reaching up to touch the bandages on his chest. They were fresh, clean. He smelled salve and healing herbs. Carefully, Merlin sat up. His chest felt strangely fine. His shirt had been set aside. As he unwound the bandages, he was only mildly surprised to find his chest unblemished, as if he’d never been hurt.

“Well, that’s useful,” Merlin remarked softly.

As he set the wad of bandages aside, he finally noticed who was sleeping beside him. Arthur looked peaceful in his sleep. He had aged visibly since the cataclysm, they all had, but it didn’t look bad on him. If anything it made him look more regal, more like the king he would have been had his country remained whole. Soft snoring on his other side alerted him to Lancelot’s presence. About a half dozen of Arthur’s knights formed a loose circle around them, intermixed with some of Lancelot’s own men. They were keeping guard, though Merlin wasn’t quite sure whether it was to protect him or keep him from leaving.

He made no sound as he stood. Pulling his shirt on, he left it hang open, exposing the front of his bare chest. Merlin stared down at himself and tried to pinch the skin of his stomach. There was no fat left to get a hold of, whereas months ago he’d been larger, not quite pudgy but at least filled out a bit more than he was now. Maybe Lancelot was right, he had lost weight.

Picking his way around the sleeping bodies, Merlin made his way towards the lower tunnels. He’d explored the layout of the caves before Arthur and the survivors from Camelot had moved in, but he’d never physically been down here. He’d been so concerned with making sure there was no way monsters could get in that he’d missed a rather obvious connection. The tunnel from the sleeping area curved down at a distinct slope, curving out and around and back in on itself, much like a spiral staircase though a rather broad one. At the bottom, he came to a wall. There was a crack in the wall and through it Merlin could smell fresh air.

Laying his hands flat on the wall, Merlin closed his eyes and pushed with his magic. The crack widened, splitting the wall as the rock peeled away into the tunnel walls. Cool air ghosted over Merlin and brought with it the smell of water. It was dark, so Merlin called forth a ball of light, raising it high overhead and brightening it until it lit the whole cavern.

A wide expanse of rocky beach sloped down into an underground lake. The chamber was at least five stories high, possibly larger. Stone jutted down from the top of the cavern wall high overhead, with one massive stone tooth right in the center. Merlin attached his light to that stone and concentrated for a moment to keep it there permanently. He let his hand trail along the cave wall as he circled the room, feeling for any more cracks like the one that had led him here or open tunnels. There were two along the far wall, one under the surface of the lake where the water ran away to hidden rivers underground and another on the surface, tall enough for a man to pass through. The latter he sealed off with a word, blocking it until he had time to explore. The former he barred with gates of thick stone, leaving space enough for water to get out but ensuring that nothing else could, and making sure that nothing could get in.

He circled back around to the entrance of the cavern and approached the pool. Shifting to his knees, he touched the water. It was pure, clean. Cupping his hands together he brought the water to his mouth and drank heavily. The water tasted perfect. There was a small stream that ran through one of the upper caves, enough to get drinking water, but this was so much better. They could bathe down here, do laundry, swim.

“There you are.”

Water splashed back into the pool as Merlin turned in surprise. He’d been too lost in the magic, in examining what he’d found to sense or hear Arthur’s approach. The former prince stood in the entranceway, bent double as he caught his breath.

“Arthur.” He slowly stood. Merlin wasn’t entirely sure why he was here, but he had a strong feeling Lancelot had something to do with it. He could easily picture Lancelot bullying Arthur or anyone that got in his way into letting the refugees bring Merlin in with them. Arthur wouldn’t have refused them asylum. That didn’t tell him whether Arthur considered his presence a good thing or merely a necessary evil until he’d healed enough to go back out.

Arthur approached. He looked like he’d been running, though Merlin couldn’t guess why. “I thought you’d left again.”

Merlin’s jaw dropped open. There’d been a pleading quality to Arthur’s voice, making it almost humble and nothing like the imperious prince he used to know. He shut his mouth with a snap. “No, I haven’t. I… I can, though… if you need.”

“I don’t need. Stay.” Arthur closed the distance between them in four quick strides. For a second, he thought Arthur was going to hit him and braced himself for the impact, but then strong arms enveloped him, holding him tight. It took Merlin’s brain a few seconds to catch up with what was happening. Arthur… Arthur was hugging him and not just a quick friendly hug. Arthur was holding him, like you would an old friend or lover, and kept holding him, not letting go even as seconds shifted into minutes. It felt nice, to be held like this. Strange, but nice. Comforting.

He let his head fall to Arthur’s shoulder. Often, he’d dreamed of doing something like this again, of being this close to Arthur once more. This was not the first time Arthur had held him, but it was the first since the cataclysm. He felt he should be saying something but the words escaped him. Tentatively, he raised his arms to clutch at Arthur’s sides, as much to deepen the closeness between them as to convince himself that Arthur really was here with him.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispered into his hair. Hands shifted against his back, stroking lightly. “I’m so very sorry. I shouldn’t have left you out there. I shouldn’t have let you go.”

Merlin tensed. Was Arthur apologizing? Arthur never apologized, not like this. He tried to pull back but Arthur stopped him. “What? Arthur, let me…” He cut himself off as Arthur’s arms tightened around him, not hard enough to hurt but enough to keep him from moving. “Arthur, it wasn’t your fault. It was as much my choice as anything.”

Lips pressed against Merlin’s neck, warm and wet just above the spot where his shoulder and neck joined. His mind was still reeling with Arthur’s words, but his body was obviously far ahead of him. He relaxed into Arthur’s hold, limbs melting back into a loose and comfortable embrace.

“Don’t leave again,” Arthur murmured against his skin, punctuation his words with more soft kisses up and down the expanse of Merlin’s exposed neck. “Please. You’ve done enough. Stay here. I’m sorry. Stay.”

His mind felt sluggish, disbelieving. This couldn’t be happening because it wasn’t the way things were between them. There’d been hints, before. Brief touches and quick embraces, fingers brushing when he handed Arthur his goblet, lingering hands when he helped Arthur dress or Arthur steadied him after one of the many times he tripped over his own two feet. But through all that there’d been nothing like this, nothing this deep, this real. It was too much and not enough at the same time. All this time, all these long month, he’d dreamed of this, dreamed of Arthur. Even before, he’d thought about what it would be like if either of them actually got up enough courage to say something, to make things firm and real between them. That was before the cataclysm, before Arthur had learned of his lies, before he’d been outcaste.

To have it all forgiven, just like that… It was a miracle too happy to be true. Yet here he was. He couldn’t deny the reality of it, couldn’t deny the obvious proof of Arthur’s feelings. If ever Christmas came again, this was it, right here in Arthur’s arms.

By the gods, he’d missed Arthur.

“Why?” His throat felt choked but he got the word out.

Gentle hands lifted his face up until he and Arthur were eye-to-eye. “Because all this time I’ve loved you, you fool. You could have come back any time, any time at all and we would have welcomed you. We were waiting for you, you daft, bloody idiot. How in the world do you think I could ever hate you?”

The kiss took away any response he could even try to make. Words weren’t necessary when they had tongues and hands to speak for them. Their lips met and it was like something ignited. Suddenly he needed Arthur, needed him so desperately it hurt. This was all those sleepless nights in the wilderness, all the fear and the longing, all the heart-break and regretful sighs, all taking their vengeance at once.

His arms went around Arthur’s shoulders, hands clutching tight to the fabric of his shirt. Arthur’s hands were on his hips, tight, possessive against his bare skin. They moved backwards as their mouths clashed and he was sure that it was only because of Arthur’s careful hold that he didn’t stumble and fall. Soft gasps and wet moans snuck out each time they broke away for air, before their lips came together again hungrily, as if they were each trying to devour the other through passion alone. Merlin’s back hit the cave wall and the stones flattened behind him to form a smooth surface. He lifted his legs, circling them around Arthur’s waist and Arthur helped him, his hands slipping low to hoist Merlin off his feet.

Firm evidence of Arthur’s desire pressed against him and Merlin moaned into the kiss. Gods, he wanted a bed and he wanted it now. Anything horizontal would do, though he’d prefer something softer than stone. Privacy would be nice but he had a feeling he was going to have to give up on that. Hard to find a place to be alone together in a cave system with a hundred odd people. Maybe he could adapt his shields to something more solid.

Stone shift against his back once more, moving like a living thing, though this time it went deeper than just the surface stones. Arthur’s hips were moving against his in a delicious rhythm, which made it hard to concentrate on anything other than the man pressed against him. The pressure between his hips only reminded him how much more he wanted. Arthur’s lips moved down Merlin’s neck and over his shoulder as Arthur pushed Merlin’s shirt off to hang around his elbows, leaving Merlin’s mouth free to make the most lurid and obscene noises. Someone was going to hear them. There was no way Merlin could keep quiet through all of this.

There was something different with the cave wall. One hand disengaged from around Arthur’s neck to feel at the stone behind him, but it wasn’t stone at all, not anymore. His fingers found wood, smooth planks of some type of thick wood, and a metal knob. He turned the knob and the door swung open. Suddenly there was nothing supporting Merlin besides Arthur’s hands. They fell backwards.

Merlin landed on the mattress, gasping as Arthur fell on top of him. Instantly he was aware of space, a large open space around them. The room seemed to be getting bigger around them with each passing second, the door moving further away. Bedposts appeared, and a bed frame, wooden. There was a small table next to the bed with a simple looking jar on top of it. A canopy appeared overhead and suddenly it all made sense. This wasn’t just any room, it was Arthur’s. All around them, Arthur’s room was appearing, minus a few details but the basics were all there. In the distance, he thought he heard the lock in the door clicking home.

“Bloody hell.” Arthur, it seemed, had finally noticed what was going on. He pulled away, though not far and gazed around in mute wonderment before staring down at Merlin. “You did this?”

He couldn’t help feeling a bit embarrassed. “Not on purpose…” As if making out with Arthur wasn’t good enough, his mind had helpfully taken the fantasy further and made one of his favorite dreams real – making out in Arthur’s bed.

“Fantastic.”

As if Merlin hadn’t had enough heart-attacks that day, Arthur actually meant it. He was smiling. Merlin had used magic – big, blatant magic – right in front of him, and he was smiling.

“Do you have any other tricks up your sleeves?” Arthur leered down at him.

Merlin smacked him with a handy pillow. As if he weren’t mortified enough, the curtains drew back on their own, revealing the pot of salve on the table next to them.

“I didn’t do that,” he protested, feeling his face flame up.

“Of course not,” Arthur agreed, though the grin on his face suggested otherwise.

Arthur captured his lips before Merlin could attempt further protestations of his innocence. Merlin whole-heartedly approved. Hands slipped beneath clothing, exploring lightly at first and then more daring as Arthur lifted Merlin enough to finish getting his shirt off. Merlin returned the favor, shivering with excitement as he felt skin beneath his hands, wide, muscled expanses of skin. He’d seen Arthur bare-chested before, but this was an entirely new experience. Now he was free to touch and taste. He let his hands and lips wander as he slid down Arthur’s chest, laving kisses against the exposed skin.

“Pants, off,” Arthur ordered, sounding more like his old self. Merlin was all too happy to comply.

Arthur teased him as he slipped Merlin’s pants off. His fingers slid under the fabric to grab at his ass and lifting. They then moved down and in to brush teasingly against his entrance, pressing against it just once before moving back up to slowly slide the fabric down his legs. He took no such delicacy disrobing Arthur, instead shoving the fabric down as far as his hands would go and then using his feet to get it and his own pants completely off.

“Impatient?” Arthur teased him.

“You have no idea.” Burying one hand in Arthur’s hair, he pulled until Arthur’s mouth was level with his once more and expressed his urgency with a wet and lurid kiss.

When Arthur settled once more between his legs, he felt like he was going to explode. Their erections met, brushing tantalizingly against each other. Merlin arched against the mattress, his chest pressing against Arthur’s own as he vocalized his approval in a panting series of moans. Then, a slick finger pressed against his entrance and he was nearly undone.

“Oh, gods, please,” he begged, shifting his hips wider to give Arthur more room.

“Anything you say.”

The finger pressed in, burning a delicious trail up the base of Merlin’s spine as Arthur buried his finger all the way to the knuckle. He needed more. “Please, Arthur, don’t be gentle. I need you.”

This was not Merlin’s first time with a man, but it was his first time in a long while. Still, he knew ways to force his body to relax into the pain and force it away. The first two fingers burned, the next not so much, and he was ready when Arthur finally pushed his way inside. It felt like he’d been waiting centuries for this. His shout of pleasure seemed to rock the very foundation of the mountain.

“Yes. Please, Arthur. Give me more. Please. Gods, please.”

Arthur kissed his way along Merlin’s collarbone with a low groan. “Keep talking like that, Merlin.” He bit down on Merlin’s shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but enough that Merlin would have a bruise there – thankfully low enough to be hidden by clothing – a mark, of what they’d done. Merlin shouted and twisted one hand in Arthur’s hair to hold him there for a brief moment longer. “I love the way you sound.”

“Please,” he begged, over and over again because that’s all he had thought left to say. Just please and Arthur’s name and a litany of nonsensical babble that consisted mostly of the words ‘more’, and ‘yes’, and ‘harder’.

Arthur gave him what he wanted. Merlin’s hips lifted off the bed as Arthur thrust into him, gentle at first and them more forceful as Merlin encouraged him into it. His lips seemed to be everywhere, first fucking Merlin’s mouth with his tongue and then travelling down his chest in wet, open-mouthed kisses, then moving on to mark Merlin on the neck and arms and shoulders. It was everything he’d ever wanted. Arthur was moving inside of him, their bodies slipping against each other with glorious friction and it was all Merlin could do to hold on and enjoy the ride.

Fireworks were going off in Merlin’s head and he knew that somewhere his magic was doing something it shouldn’t. If he concentrated, which was nigh impossible to do in the current situation, he might have been able to figure out what exactly was going on, but all of his concentration was focused on Arthur. He clutched at Arthur’s back and cried out as climax overtook him. Merlin was quite certain the earth moved with him as he trembled beneath Arthur. For a brief moment, his vision went white and the world faded. Then the moment was gone and he snapped back to his body in time for Arthur to come inside of him, seed spilled over the course of several sharp jerks that made Merlin gasp as they played against over-sensitized nerves.

He fell asleep to soft covers, a plush mattress, and Arthur’s arms tight around him.

*****

“Merlin!”

Arthur’s voice woke him partially from his slumber. He groaned and pulled the covers over his head, burying his face in the soft down pillow.

“Merlin, you have to come see this.”

That insistent voice was joined by insistent hands that pulled the covers away and shook him away. He swatted at them. He’d been so comfortable. It’d been ages since he’d slept that well.

Blearily, he rolled over and opened an eye. “What is it, Arthur?”

Arthur just beamed at him. His eyes trailed lower down Merlin’s body with obvious interest, causing Merlin to flush and sit up. Arthur was already fully dressed, though not in the same clothes he’d been wearing yesterday. No telling how long he’d been away, or even how late Merlin had slept.

“Come outside and see.”

A shirt and breeches landed in Merlin’s lap. They looked new, and much like what he’d used to wear in Camelot. “Where did…”

Arthur pointed to a wardrobe off to the side of the room. Its doors stood open, revealing a mixture of clothing in both his and Arthur’s customary styles. Now that he was more awake he finally got a good look around the room. It really was just like Arthur’s though there were no windows, and the door was in the wrong place. But, there was a fireplace with a fire in it, heating the room to a pleasant temperature. Somehow the smoke was escaping, something he’d have to investigate further. There was a big wooden table at the side of the room with two benches, and soft-looking rugs covering the floor.

“Did I do all this?” He marveled. He couldn’t remember doing this, purposely. His mind must have filled in a few bits while they’d been… while he and Arthur… He blushed just thinking about it.

Arthur was still watching him with that appreciative, somewhat smug look on his face, which only made Merlin blush more. He wasn’t used to being leered at, or for giving anyone much cause to leer at him. Quickly he pulled on his clothing, reveling slightly in the soreness in his lower back, proof of what they’d done.

“Come see.”

Arthur led him out of the room by his hand and Merlin gasped. Sunlight hit him, radiating from that large pillar in the center of the room like it was a real sun. The barren slope had turned to earth. There was grass beneath his bare feet. Grass and trees and flowers. The entire wall around Arthur’s room – their room – was covered in flowering vines. The lake had been sectioned off at the far end, split into several pools. A line of hedges screened three – for privacy, perhaps as bathing pools – while steam wafted from one larger one.

“I did this?”

It seemed unreal. He hadn’t realized his magic could do something on this scale, let alone without him even knowing he was doing it.

“We can plant food down here,” Arthur said, his voice flushed with hope. “We can survive without ever needing to go to the surface again.”

His words had the ring of truth to them. They could expand from here. With his magic, he could hollow out more rooms. It seemed simple to him now that he’d already done it once. They could make a whole city for themselves here, underground.

A thought niggled at him. He tugged on Arthur’s arm, bringing his jubilation to a momentary halt. “But what if there’s more survivors out there? Like Lancelot’s group.” He’d have to go back out there. He’d have to leave all this, leave Arthur behind. It was gorgeous, glorious. It was all he’d ever wanted, but he couldn’t sit here, in happiness, when there was the possibility that somewhere out there, there might be others still alive and in danger.

Arthur watched him silently for a long moment before he seemed to come to a decision. “With your magic, could you look for them from here? Is there a way to search for them with magic? Scrying? Then, once you knew where they were, we could go directly to them, make things faster since we’d know exactly where to look?”

He wasn’t quite sure he was hearing right. “W-we?”

“Of course.” Arthur took both of Merlin’s hands in his own and pulled him closer, dropping a chaste kiss on Merlin’s brow. “I’m not letting you go out there alone again. All this time, I should have been protecting you, but instead I stayed here, safe, while you wasted away.”

He flushed and stammered. “I-I’m not…”

Arthur’s hands went to Merlin’s waist and slipped underneath the loose ends of Merlin’s shirt. His fingers shifted along the bare skin of Merlin’s hips, trailing over meager flesh and bone. “I’m not complaining, but you seem to have gotten even bonier since we last parted, a feat which I would once have thought nigh impossible.”

“What is with you people,” Merlin grumbled, though he didn’t pull away. His skin felt warmer where Arthur touched. “I’m not exactly starving myself or pining away. Lancelot said the same thing, you know.”

“Well, we’ll just have to plump you up. Put a bit more meat on your bones and all that… Or just my meat in your bones.”

The way Arthur sized him up after that made Merlin nearly fall over laughing. He collapsed against Arthur’s chest, gasping for breath. “I can’t believe you said that.”

Lips pressed against the top of his head. “It was quite hard.” Arthur’s chest vibrated beneath Merlin’s cheek, rumbling with his words. “I could hardly keep a straight face.”

His hand shifted lower down Merlin’s back to gently press against his ass.

“Say you’ll stay.”

Really, there was only one answer he could give. “I will.”

“And can you do it? Use magic to search for any other survivors.”

He’d created trees and flowers and a bed out of rock. He’d think of something. “I can. Maybe there’s a faster way to bring them here.”

Not for the first time, he wished he still had his old book of spells, but that had been trapped with Gaius in the ruins of Camelot.

“We’ll figure something out,” he promised.

“Good.” Arthur kissed him and Merlin had a sense that things really would work out. “Now, let’s go show the others.”

A wide grin stretched across Merlin’s face. Together, they’d be alright.

Jul 18 2009

Beyond the Basics: Fanfiction Plot Development and Characterization

As requested, the presentation from the panel Ashcat presented at Otakon. Any questions, feel free to ask. ^_^

Otakon 2009 Powerpoint

Also, the presentation from last year, Fan-fiction: 10 ideas to improve your fanfiction.