Current mood:	rushed
Entry tags:	fic, fic: dw/tw

Fic: Survival Training
Title: Survival Training
Fandoms: Torchwood/Doctor Who (it's so hard to keep them apart at the moment)
Summary: A goose chase through the Himalaya leads to a strange meeting in even stranger times
Characters: Torchwood Team, OC
Spoilers: End of Days, The Sound of Drums
Rating: None
Word count: 494
Notes: Written for the tw_wotd_fic prompt 'dolorous'. Not betaed, just written so it's out of my head before I go to work, so concrit is welcome. Would be helpful if you know some Old School Who, I guess (Planet of the Spiders especially). If not, then please tell me if it makes sense at all?
Fic Masterlist: Here.




"There is nothing of interest here, I fear."

The man in the hut had always been there, the people in the village had said. He'd always lived up in this valley, completely alone. There were stories that he lived from the rain and the sun alone, that he was immortal and a holy man. His hut wasn't the source of the alien signal that had brought them here, but it offered protection from the cold and a tea that was far too sweet.

"But you see," the old man smiled, comfortably leaning back on his sofa, "sometimes we don't find what we're looking for, but we find what we need."

Owen was staring into his mug, the urge to snap at the hermit clearly held in check by the fear of sleeping outside. Tosh and Gwen too exhausted from their long trek, that left Ianto to talk with the monk. Ianto smiled weakly, they had to travel all the way to the Himalaya to find something to shut Owen up.

The monk's eyes focused on him, staring at him with what felt like the might of centuries. "Sometimes, living is the bravest thing."

Ianto's reply died on his lips when all hell broke loose outside. The team ran, scanners in hand, fearing they'd come too late to stop what had brought them here. Ianto stumbled over a cushion, suddenly realizing the monk hadn't moved at all.

A ripping noise tore the air, and through the door Ianto could see his team gaping up into the sky. Still the monk hadn't moved. He thought he saw him shake his head with something like grief, but then those ancient eyes focussed on him again.

"This is not your fault," the old man said, his voice suddenly more serious, older, breaking the spell of his stare. Ianto remembered how to breathe and stumbled outside, away from the monk as fast as he could. He still felt his eyes on him, his voice unearthly and clear in his mind.

"The last of the Time Lords..." he heard the old man chuckle, "if you meet the Doctor, Ianto Jones, tell him K'anpo Rimpoche sends greetings,"

Ianto shivered, trying to alert the others, but his body wouldn't move, and his team was too busy scanning the millions of spheres to notice. Not one of the things approached them.

A groaning, metallic noise he knew far too well since Jack disappeared whispered through the cold air, echoing in his bones. But when he finally found the strength to turn around, the hut and the monk had vanished, leaving no trace behind they ever existed.

"What should we do?" Gwen screamed, her voice shaking with fear and concern, realizing how far away from everything they were. Tosh just stared, helpless without her laptop and Owen pointed his gun at the sky, the gesture so futile Ianto could've laughed.

"Sometimes, living is the bravest thing," Ianto repeated, preparing their tents for the night.