[MEME] And then there were children.

[eelseason]

Stolen from the internet.

Leave a comment and I will come up with the hypothetical kid between any of my muses (List BTR) (List Epic) and any of yours (assuming I know them at least well enough to pretend that I know them well enough to write them). Terms of parent-child relationship are left to the management. Children may be biological and natural, in-vitro, adopted, surrogate, changechildren, left on a doorstep in a handbasket, or pretty much whatever needs to happen. Any requests for children parented by john_thane will incur a karmic penality. Memes are not intended to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease. This contract is not canonicity-binding.

Comments

[themanclion]

der_weevilkonig/deepestindigo
homoraptor/deepestindigo
hey_capn_jack/lionofmanc (oh, the CRACK)
soldatceryi/theb5mantra
hey_capn_jack/superiorspectre
nowinprint/twdenmother

[storyinmypocket]

Alternate suggestions include (just because I keep thinking of people to throw together and the probable hilarity there):

homoraptor/wineandvenom
riversodeep/twdenmother
sevendoc/quiteunexpected

Oh, the options you have. :P

(frozen comment)

[eelseason]

hey_capn_jack/superiorspectre

He'd known it was bad when Owen's voice came over the intercom in the hushed tones he never used unless there was a tragedy on. "New Wanderer; taking her to the infirmary" was all he'd say on the channel, along with "Some sensitive..." and trailing off like he wasn't sure of the word.

Gwen was out on a personal day, Andy looking after Sam in the residential wings following his latest mishap, and the last time he'd seen Ianto he'd been hock-deep in something large and complicated involving too many legal documents and too much paper, so he caught Suzie on the way down to the infirmary and wondered who the hell would provoke that much of a reaction from Owen.

What he wasn't expecting to find was a thirteen-year-old girl in a nightgown sitting in a corner, ankles locked together, holding onto a mug of hot cocoa and carefully not looking at anyone.

Owen looked between them as they came in, perpetual grimace deepening as he walked over. "Won't let me touch her," he said, keeping his voice low. Not that she wouldn't be able to hear him, but it was the best he could do. "All I could do to get a name out of her, and she introduced herself..."

They all knew the name before he turned to look at Suzie, hung halfway between apology and a vestigial sense of sympathy.

"Well, as you."

This wasn't something they trained for.

Jack took a breath to control the situation, but he didn't make it to speaking before Suzie – the adult, not the child curled in a corner – set her shoulders and shot both of them a glare that could whither steel. "I'll sort this. Get out."

"Suzie," Jack said, and the glare sparked. Oh yes, that glare said, he could argue, but he'd better be prepared to make a Sherman's March to the Sea out of it; he'd better be prepared to take no prisoners.

"I've got it," she said.

They stepped out, and she shut the door between them.

[eelseason]

It took four and a half hours. This, Jack knew because he waited them, patiently, outside the door until it opened again. He sent Owen off. Suzie knew her way around medical supplies, and more importantly, she knew her way around this.

When she did emerge, leaving the door half-closed behind her, she looked worn down to her sharp edges, like everything soft and extraneous had been temporarily stripped away. Her posture, her expression, were uncompromising.

"She'll need a room," she said, and Jack ticked that down. 'She,' not 'I'. That's something.

"Here?" he asked.

Suzie nodded. "I intend to look after her."

That's something else. "Suzie," Jack began.

"Jack," she said, cutting off any possible protest. "How stupid would I have to be not to know everything you're about to tell me?"

Jack shut his mouth.

Suzie's eyes flicked over him. Just him, at the moment, no glances to things generally unseen, but she sank back a little, landing on a hard edge of challenge. "I'll find a way to make it work, Jack. I'm not going to leave her to a foster home; I can't."

Jack held up one hand. Children and Torchwood were a complicated issue at the best of times, and this wasn't a simplifying factor. But their options...

Another Gwen had come through. He'd heard about that, and about what happened. If another Sam, or another Ianto, or another Tosh had come through, he wouldn't have let them out of his sight. And Suzie was no different. His team, his responsibility, his family whether having this particular Suzie from this particular age and night made things ten times as complicated or not. He exhaled.

"We'll find a way," he said.

Suzie blinked back at that. "You don't need to–"

"Yeah, I do." He bites back a wry smile – not the time for it, not here, not watching her like this. Hell. He tore her down and they put her back together after Cardiff, after Thane; at least there was less damage to undo on the younger one. "We've got some experience with this."

He was watching for her reaction. Tellingly, he'd have been able to see it even if he hadn't been. In the end it was her lips that made the smile, even drier than his would have been.

She let the door open, just a bit, behind her. "Be careful with her."

He'd brush it off, tell her she knew he would be, but the way she's watching his eyes writes that option out. He catches her eyes and nods, giving the full weight of promise to that nod. "I will be."

She stepped in through the door again, walking to the girl now sitting at the edge of the examination table and taking her hand. "Susan," she said, standing near and almost over her in a posture Jack recognized – one he often wore himself.

Suzie looked back at him. Both of them looked.

"He's safe."

[superiorspectre]

Words can't describe how much I love this fic. It's amazing, in a painful, horrible way.

I don't really have words, but thanks for this.