Shadows Awaken

The walls warped and shifted in a dizzying color of mass and displacement, before settling as an uneven gaping hole into the fabric of reality. A little boy went racing through the brick wall, his little legs carrying his four foot body as fast as it could. The aura of fear surrounded him, as an unseen force seemed to be chasing him. He was scared. He was so scared. Something was after him. Something he didn't understand. It was behind him and it was with him, and running seemed the only solution. And so he ran, ran out of the alleyway from where he had appeared, past the bum snoring on the heap of trash, past the diseased dog sniffing at a garbage can. Everywhere he went, the world went distorted, as walls threatened to melt down and allow demons in from other worlds. Nobody seemed to notice under cover of night. Or nobody seemed to care.

His little hands grabbed onto a low railing, his fingertips digging into the metal as he awkwardly and clumsily hurtled over it. He lay panting, stunned by the impact for a moment. For one brief moment, his fear had left him. His eyes focused on the half crescent moon that lingered over the city, and stared at its beauty. And then a shadow covered it, swift and silent, accompanied only by a slight drift of air. The little boy gave a startled gasp as a new fear plagued his mind. There was something out there coming down at him. Almost as quickly as he had fallen, he had scrambled to his feet and began to run again. Whatever it was chased after; he could feel its warm breath in the cool air, and he could hear the slight whoosh of air as it moved. And he could hear a faint whispering that seemed to block out the sounds of everyday traffic.

Foolishly he raced right across the street, and towards the public library. A car had to swerve just to avoid hitting him, impacting a street light with a loud honk. His little legs carried him to the back wall, and without thinking, made an entrance. He went right through, and whatever was chasing him was stopped by the closing of the portal. He was safe. But in his panic, he had run right into a nearby bookcase, and he collapsed. The world stopped shifting around him as he lost consciousness, his little body lying on the floor in a heap.

Earlier in the Timestream, Later in the Day

"I'm running away from this place and nobody can stop me!" That's what little Eric had exclaimed as he hoisted the backpack to his shoulders. It contained all his worldly possessions, which was a change of clothes, his favorite teddy bear, and a large piece of cake. On his body he wore a pair of black trousers and a blue striped shirt, with sneakers that looked scuffed up. He jumped up to the window sill of their room and looked out, his breath being taken away by the height. But he was not afraid.

"But Mrs. Smite will be mad! You know how she is when we cause trouble!" His sister Amy, well he just called her his sister, stood on the carpet below. He didn't really have a sister, being an orphan from a failed marriage. His parents supposedly didn't want him, and this orphanage was mean, so he would go out on his own. He would do what those pioneers did in olden days. He would travel to far away lands, and explore new worlds. Maybe he'd even join the navy. But he sure as heck wouldn't be staying here with Mrs. Smite and her cane.

"Mrs. Smite will never get me. I'll find a new place and build a new home. You can come with me Amy!" Eric held out his hand to her.

Amy looked wide-eyed and backed away. "I...can't..." She shook her head. "I have my little sister to take care of."

Eric frowned, and felt a pang of jealousy. Amy preferred someone else to him. Well, he wouldn't be bothered by that. He would strike out on his own, be his own man, he had heard said somewhere. "Well, goodbye then!" And out the window he leaped.

It wasn't really that far of a fall as it looked to the little boy. It was only off the second floor, and he had the bushes below to cushion his fall. He sat up, a bit stunned and flustered, but feeling free at last. Or he would as soon as he crossed over the fence.

It was an adventure that sent adrenaline pumping through his little veins. There was no one to see him or to chase him, but he imagined it all just the same. To the fence he ran, and up and over he climbed. And he didn't stop until he was on the other side and hiding behind a nearby building. For a moment he just stared at the orphanage he had just left. And then a big smile moved over his face, and he practically leaped with joy. And then hoisting his backpack and scuffing his shoes up a bit, he took his first steps into his new life, free of oppression and all those other big words.

Eventually he came to a bazaar, and the smell of food was so tantalizing he had to stop. He was beginning to feel hungry, but of course he knew that he could buy anything with the few tuppins he kept in his pocket. Down each isle he ventured, looking at each item with his curious eyes. Eventually he came to the food, but a new disappointment settled in as he realized he could only buy a small sandwich for almost all his money. As he wandered off chewing on the mix of ham, turkey, and bread, he wondered how he would make money. Somewhere around here, there had to be a draft station for the navy.

As he was walking, and not paying attention to the people he was nearly bumping into, his foot crunched down on something hard. Looking down, he discovered a necklace lying on the cobbled ground at his feet. Curiously he picked it up, and stared at it. At first he felt a surge of pride at finding his first treasure, but that went away as he examined the stones. They didn't seem like jewels at all, merely some rocks some person had crudely strung along to fashion a necklace with. Well, some girl would probably like it once he cleaned the rocks. His hands left his sandwich in his mouth as he began cleaning each rock with his shirt. But as traces of dirt began to appear on his shirt, he began to tune the world out. Someone seemed to be speaking to him, talking to him. His childlike curiosity strained to hear them, and he became focused entirely on the necklace, and less on the individuals strolling in his path.

Then suddenly someone bumped into him. His little body was thrown across the floor, and he was nearly trampled by a passing group of teenagers. He stared bewilderedly at the large bulky man above him, the glint in his eyes looking almost menacing.

"Watch where you're going you stupid kid!"

For the first time since he had escaped from the orphanage, he felt scared. Was this one of those men who did mean things to people? Was he about to be kidnapped and ransomed, and then killed? Would the orphanage even pay for him if he was ransomed? Suddenly the world shifted around him in a mad haze. The bazaar disappeared, the individuals disappeared, only to be replaced by this man who was going to kill him and eat him for breakfast. He was alone, and there was nobody who could help him, and nobody who wanted to help him.

Then in a mad frenzy, in a rush of pure fear, he had jumped to his feet and ran. The remnants of his sandwich lay on the ground, and the necklace was clutched tightly in his hand. The man didn't chase after, merely looked after with a snort of disgust, but he had no way of knowing that. But he was blinded by his fears, and could only run. And that was when the world shifted. That's when things started happening. That's when something started telling him horrible things, and what would happen to him. And that's when he felt someone's presence, or something, after him. He couldn't describe it, only knew he had to get away from it if he wanted to live. And so he ran and ran and ran, the world warping as it took him away from the bazaar and momentarily away from his fears.

------
(Disclaimer: Tyra's idea.)

“If you’re about to have a good time, forget it.  Want to know what happens when your irresistible charm leads you to a bed with a star?  A phone call, that’s what.”  Reluctantly dragging his feet across the cement ground, Jack pulled the strap of his red suspenders over his shoulder, his iconic navy overcoat hung over his forearm.  It was amazing how often Torchwood blocked his good times in order to tell him ‘something crazy is happening in the world’.  Wasn’t something crazy always happening?  That was beside the point, he supposed.

With the familiar weight draped over his shoulder, Jack pulled on a small smile and slipped a Bluetooth device into his ear.  "All right, tell me what we've got on our hands.  More so your hands than mine. What are on your hands that you want on mine?  You’ll have to make up for what you’re making me miss out on, Chuck, because I can give you a list of things that could have been on my hands tonight.  Your mission was not one of them."

The man, in answer, scolded Jack for his implication.  This only fed the budding smile on Jack's face, causing several heads to turn and raise a brow while he made his way down the shaded street.  He was getting the gist of his situation.  

Torchwood had detected dimension particles, or, as the Doctor liked to put them, void stuff.  They figured they should get a team down there to check it out.  And by a team, they meant Jack.  The coordinates were already given so there was no turning back down now, especially considering he was already half way there.

First of all, what ever happened to the days that Jack had a real team? The whole three or more rockin’ squad? He figured it was because of his condition. Torchwood didn’t like to sacrifice agents if they could help it, and throwing Jack in the heat of things wasn’t exactly a sacrifice.  Secondly, why would a library have this problem? Why was it always a library?  'Books are brilliant weapons' the Doctor had once told him. That's probably why so many things were drawn to the shelves that held a lifetime’s worth of knowledge.  As far as the Torchwood agent was concerned, all he needed was a gun and a target to call things good to go.

Trudging up the stone steps of his destination, Jack hesitated at the doors to check his holster, adjust the Bluetooth, and, of course, use the reflection of the window to fix his hair.  With that all accomplished, he opened the door and strode inside.  His eyes scanned the area briefly before narrowing in on the front counter.  Without a second thought, he walked over, winked at the exquisitely attractive blonde behind it, and reached across to unlatch the radio to the overhead speakers from its resting place.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and any variation of the two, the library is now closed.  Please find the nearest exit immediately and get away from the building.  If you see anything odd don’t touch it.  I repeat, do not touch anything out of the ordinary.  Thank you and have a fantastic day!”  It was great having the charm of one thousand demigods (or so he liked to think) since the worker on the other side of the mahogany counter did not try and stop him.  Perhaps his smoldering look had done the trick.  Maybe once he fixed up this mess he could find out just how well it worked…

“Captain Jack Harkness.  I’ll be seeing you later.” He purred while guiding the worker away from her station and gently pushing her towards the front door.  It was amazing how slow people moved.  Maybe he should have said the place was under quarantine.  That usually got the panic going, and panic meant fast actions.  Oh well, he didn’t want to stir up anything not worth stirring up.  

So, with a small sigh, Jack assisted in guiding people out, casually prompting people to “hurry their cute behinds” until there was no one else left except the rats, himself, and the prickling feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and any variation of the two, the library is now closed.  Please find the nearest exit immediately and get away from the building.  If you see anything odd don’t touch it.  I repeat, do not touch anything out of the ordinary.  Thank you and have a fantastic day!”

The library was closed? Charlotte didn't have any luck today. Four-hour-long shift making coffee and being scowled at by the anglais for her accent, only one, out-of-the-way library with the book she needed, and now the library was closing. She hadn't even gotten to the desk to ask where it was. And she needed it. Now.

To Save A Hundred Thousand: The Life and Letters of Charlotte Corday. She closed her eyes. Life and Letters. Usually, they'd say Life and Death, wouldn't they? Or Letters and Death. But you're not dead, said a part of her.

But you have to have died sometime, said another part.

Well, what if I was just missing, proclaimed dead?

Minutes from the guillotine? Not a chance. They will have scoured Paris for me... but that's all hundreds of years ago.

She wasn't concerned about her death, really. That wasn't happening now, she was definitely alive for the time being, and out of danger. But Charlotte needed to know. The last letter. Had her father gotten it? Had her father read it and understood it and not let grief kill him from the inside, as it had so many years ago? The Life and Letters of Charlotte Corday-

There it was. On the bookshelf she had just passed through to get to the exit. There it actually was. Quickly, she ducked away and ran towards it, tugging it off the shelf. Thick and heavy. God curse her verbosity. But there was something about the book... something off, something odd.

If you see anything odd don’t touch it.  I repeat, do not touch anything out of the ordinary.

Charlotte thought for a moment, ran further into the maze of bookshelves, and opened the tome, reading and reading her own words...

Eric sat up, his little head throbbing as he looked dizzily over the bookshelves. His fears were momentarily gone; there was no one chasing him and the knock on the head had stunned him long enough to forget the whispering shadows. Instead he looked up in fascination at the many bookshelves that lined the walls. There was a small room with books back in the orphanage, but he had never seen that many before in his life. He climbed to his feet, and wobbled over to the first bookshelf he could reach. Pulling a thick book off the shelf, he stared with mingled curiosity and confusion at the words displayed. He could tell it was a play, but why did they speak in such strange words? Not understanding them, and thus bored with it, he shoved it back and began pulling and pushing books back in until he had reached the end of the room.

By the time he had reached the other wall, he had found something of interest, and out of the adult section. There were lots of interesting words, but there were also lots of pictures to accompany them. Seating himself by his backpack, he stared with fascination at the different rockets and space shuttles displayed, reading with great interest the descriptions under each one.

Then the library seemed to go deadly silent. The boy hadn't noticed it until he had felt hungry, and stuck the book in his backpack, exchanging it for a piece of cake. Sitting down to eat, his eyes wandered over the large room again. It went on a ways, being a storage room for extra books and the like, and was a bit separate from the main library. Seeing the rows of bookshelves going back, and the door in front of him, he wondered just how many rooms of books there were. Curiosity got the better of him, and he put his two bites of cake away, and the necklace he had found in his pocket. Opening the door, he peeked out, and then wandered out into the next row of bookcases he saw.

When he looked down one isle, he could see that it was morning. The light was streaming in the window, indicating that it was late morning, and the library had just opened a few hours ago. Or it would have been open had it not been closed. But Eric had no way of knowing that. He also had no way of knowing, that this was the morning he had decided to escape, and he was just now getting ready to eat lunch. He only knew that there was nobody around, and there were a great deal more books to be read.

So he moved from one isle to the next, his shoes padding the floor almost silently as he read over the titles and looked at the display pictures for the isles. Just as he was about to reach for one above his head, he stopped. A noise had sounded from somewhere in the room, and as he listened, he realized he was not alone. Abandoning the book for the moment, he grabbed his backpack straps, and peeked his head out from behind the shelf.

Standing there was the tallest man he had ever seen, being a good two feet higher than his head, although the blue coat he wore seemed to make him taller. Although he was directing someone out of the building, he didn't seem to be dressed like the police who made people do things. The odd smile he wore seemed to strike him as someone friendly, and he had a certain look in his eyes that reminded him of his uncle. He didn't really remember his uncle, but he did remember he had a nice cheerful face and brought him lots of icecream and presents. But what he really looked like was one of those guys he had seen in picture books.

He stood watching the doorway until the man came back, the building now very silent. If Eric didn't know any better, they were probably the only two left. With a renewed sense of curiosity, he snuck up on the man, his sneakers ever so silent after being worn down so. "You look like one of those heroes in those picture books. The ones that lead big armies and save lots of lives." His brown eyes looked up at Jack as a new thought suddenly popped into his head. "Do you know where I can sign up for the navy?"

Charlotte turned around, slowly closing the book as voices began echoing from the room behind the bookshelves in the back. Probably the same man who had cleared out the library. No. No, now there was the voice of a little boy. What was he doing here?

She tucked the book in her bag and headed toward what must have been the book room. Maybe she shouldn't have stayed in here, she thought, looking at the shadows that seemed to be surrounding her from every corner, moving every couple of seconds. Except shadows didn't normally do that, not when it was still mid-morning. Charlotte shuddered a little and picked up her pace.

She opened the door of the book room just a crack. Yes, there was a little boy, a runaway from somewhere, given the backpack he had and his tired eyes. "You look like one of those heroes in those picture books. The ones that lead big armies and save lots of lives," he was saying to... oh. It was the man who told everyone the library had closed. She hadn't been paying much attention to him before, but examining his features, the boy's assessment was... completely inaccurate. The man looked like one of those smarmy, good-looking players trying to ruin the honor of every respectable young lady passing by. God knows, she'd seen enough of them in Paris.

"Do you know where I can sign up for the navy?" the little boy asked.

"You're too young for the navy," Charlotte said, opening the door a little wider. "You need to wait a few years, I think. Who are you?" She glanced at the man. "And you? Those were not the library's closing hours."

((I think I talked to Meta about it and they agreed, so we'll continue this thread based on the following posting order: Meta, Charlotte, and then me. This is for the benefit to all participants so we all have an equal chance to post and keep up with the story ^^ Thanks~))


With the last, or who he hoped was the last, of the library patrons gone, Jack propped his hands on his hips and gave a small sigh.  Now was the time to investigate.  Alone.  That was always fun.  A pang struck him in the heart and he found that, in that moment, he missed his team dearly.  It wasn’t often he let himself think about it, especially not in the middle of a mission, but it was a hard thing to push to the back of his mind.  He lost so much that it was unimaginable why Torchwood couldn't spare at least one agent.  Hell, even if Jack’s ‘partner’ wasn’t the most helpful, at least they would be something sweet for his eyes to digest.

Watching a few confused faces take a second glance at the library from a window, Jack smoothed out his clothing as his eyes glazed over.  He smirked, the gloomy thoughts quickly transforming into fantasies of the different people who could be assigned to Jack's team.  His own personal companion.  Wouldn’t the Doctor be proud?  Yeah, Jack could just picture it now.  He would allow the other to walk ahead so he could watch the behind of his partner as they wal-

“Hm?” His thoughts were diverted when a small voice spoke up.  Jack should have assumed there would be some dawdlers.  Looking down, he wasn’t the slightest bit surprised that the voice had matched itself up with a little boy.  Maybe he should answer in a stern voice, scold the kid for not getting out when told.  But, that isn’t the course that Jack wanted to take.  Instead, he kept on smiling and crouched down to the kid’s level.

“A hero, huh?  I try to be.”  At the mention of the navy, he laughed, placing a hand on Eric’s head and about to respond when a woman intervened.  Jack sobered instantly and shot Charlotte a glance while he rose.  “No, it wasn’t the usual hours but a closed building is a closed building.  Why are you still here?  Do warnings mean nothing to you?  I hope the pair of you know I’m dealing with something potentially dangerous here.  The last thing I need is for you getting yourselves head first into trouble. Or worse”

Jack wanted to move along, to push the two strays out the library door and bolt it shut behind them so he can wander the shelves in peace, find the source of disturbance, and close it safely.  Unfortunately, the woman and boy didn’t seem to know each other, and Jack had enough conscious to not push a kidout on his own, especially not with a stranger.

“Captain Jack Harkness, since you asked.”  The reply came out in a friendlier tone.  He decided to give the duo a choice to either leave and not return, or follow him in his mission (as long as they promised not to do anything stupid, of course).  It was fully expected that they would pick the latter.  Who passed up the opportunity of an adventure?  Jack only hoped they would be more of an asset than a burden.

"Sorry to add it, kid, but the navy won't consider anyone under-age.  But tell you what, I'll put a good word in for you when I go back to leading their armies."  Jack offered the boy a wink. "How about in the meantime you get a little experience in, huh?  Just swear you won't touch anything.  The thing about the navy is they love obedience in soldiers."

There was a new awe on Eric's face as he stared up at the man who introduced himself as Captain Jack. The promise of danger, a military hero here, and the unknown sent a surge of excitement through his body. "Danger?" His voice held the awe and excitement he felt. His face looked concentrated as he tried to remember his world history picture book, and the place Captain Jack took in it. "Are the jerries attacking?"

The fact that the navy would not accept him at his age disappointed him. Why would the navy not allow him? He was a hard working man, and could drive any boat anyone ordered him to. So long as someone showed him how. But when Jack promised that he could get experience, and that Jack would tell them of his exploits, his face beamed again. "Yes sir!" He produced a sharp salute, like he saw them do in those picture books and that one movie. "And my name is Eric," he said, to the prompt given by the woman and the Captain as to his name. "I'm going to be a Captain just like you!"

He skipped off, his shoes squeaking slightly as he bounced, and he began looking for strange things and imaginary enemies. Anything strange he saw, which really was anything he had never seen before, he peered at closely. He was tempted to touch everything he came in contact with, but he remembered Jack's words at the last minute and kept his fingers off. And then when he had examined that one corner of the bookshelf, he was bounding after Jack to see if he had found anything. He stalked behind Jack, watching the way he investigated, and trying to imitate him. And then once he had absorbed this momentary knowledge, he bounded off again to examine yet another corner of the library.

Eventually he began to feel hungry again, and he couldn't remember where he had put the last remnants of his cake. He remembered eating in one of those backrooms, but he couldn't remember exactly where he had set it down. "I'm going on lunch break," he announced, trying to remain in the military mood, and marched off to the backroom. He dropped his shoulders when he reached the door, and ventured back into the room he had first appeared in.

Over the entire floor he searched, but he couldn't find any bites of cake. Plopping down real hard, he frowned as he scratched his head, then thought to take off his backpack. As he was doing so, his eyes glanced up, and focused on the strangest sight he'd ever seen. He'd forgotten all about his cake now, and watched the wall in front of him. It had blue sparkles covering bits and pieces of the wall, and occasionally the wall would give a shuddering mesmeric twist that made the boy blink his eyes. It was the most amazing sight he had ever seen, and he shouldered his backpack as he got up and went towards it. At the last moment, he remembered Captain Jack's orders not to touch anything, and he was sure he meant strange things like this.

So he bounded off, coming up to Jack and grabbing onto his hand. "Captain Jack, Captain Jack, I found something!" He exclaimed in his eager voice, and proceeded to pull Jack's hand to the wall in the backroom.

((re:posting order - got it))

"I hope the pair of you know I'm dealing with something potentially dangerous here. The last thing I need is for you getting yourselves head first into trouble. Or worse." The man paused for a moment, then added in a more congenial tone, "Captain Jack Harkness, since you asked." "Charlotte Corday." She crossed her arms over her chest. "And I've gotten head first" - mon Dieu, yet another "head" expression - "into more trouble than you can imagine, and survived. I can take care of myself."

Jack was talking to the boy now about armies and navies and obedience. Don't corrupt the young, she thought with a roll of her once-revolutionary eyes. Charlotte began scanning the bookshelves. There was potential danger in the library... Do warnings mean nothing to you? the captain had asked.

If I had cared about warnings back in my old life, a lot more people would be dead. And me among with them.

She reached the French language section and breathed in the musty smell of old books that she had missed from her days in the convent. Voltaire, Michel de Montagne, Rousseau - some authors' names she recognized, others before or beyond her time. Her eyes stopped on what looked to be a children's book that the young boy might like, a book with colorful illustrations about a little prince. She placed it in her bag next to The Life and Letters and Parallel Lives, then turned around.

The shadows were growing darker, spreading out. They seemed to all be reaching toward her book bag. Charlotte started to back away from them, her brain berating her for being afraid of the dark. But the shadows were odd... perhaps she should tell the captain.

"Captain Jack! Captain Jack," she heard the boy call. "I found something!" Charlotte followed the sound and soon found herself staring at a glimmering blue wall, with mosaic tiles twisting in and out of formation. "What is that? A decoration for the library?"

Jack found the boy immediately amusing and interesting.  He ought to keep an eye out for this kid. The amount of curiosity and spunk is what really drew the captain to him.  Perhaps it was because Eric reminded him of himself when he was a boy.  Except Eric had yet to prove to be a promiscuous trouble maker.  Maybe given time that trait would show.  Actually, Jack wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not.. oh well, at least it made life interesting and fun.

Watching the boy, Jack shook his head at his antics and laughed under his breath.  The solute along with the exclamation that meant Jack had become a role model for the kid was a buzz.  Maybe at this rate he could whip up a fresh Torchwood recruit (not to mention a right hand man for the bar scene).  Whoa, Jack, slow down.  He’s just a kid.  Not to mention we’re on a very important mission.  Let’s start looking around.

“Eric, Charlotte, I suppose we should start our search.  Remember, don’t touch anything and report to me if you see anything weird.  Even if you don’t think it’s important, let me know.  Whether you’ve been in trouble or not, I don’t want you ripping apart of universe because you thought you could handle it.”

The library was quiet except for the clicking of their footsteps on the marble floor.  Perhaps eerily so.  Jack was waiting for something, anything, to pop out, to attack, something to fall from a shelf and make a clatter as it hit the floor, or maybe an odd sense of energy that would indicate something was out of sync in the world.  He strolled down the shelves like one would see an officer do in a park, eyes scanning over books, the wood, walls, everything.  He was watching out for any distortion in the fabric of space.  That was normally how these disturbances took shape.

“Don’t go too far.”  He called after Eric absently as the boy announced his lunch break.  Looking, looking, looking and apparently in vain.  How hard could it be to find something unusual? But it seemed like his simmering frustration would not have the chance to boil since Eric came springing back, shouting with excitement as he snatched at the captain’s hand.  He went along, eyes on the kid as they entered the back room.  

Before them loomed Eric’s discovery.  Jack walked forward a bit and stopped, stared, and smiled when Charlotte spoke.  “I wish that’s all it was.  But this is one hell of a find.  I was expecting a wormhole.. but this?  This isn’t one.”  He looked back at his company, starring Charlotte in the eye when he paused his speech.  Jack’s words seemed to whisper I know. “This is what time corruption looks like.  I haven’t seen one of these ever since the Doctor stopped hanging around Mal.  Now we have to ask ourselves... Who started it?”

New words flashed through the boy's mind, and he stood there looking puzzled at the conversation brewing about him. Wormhole? Time corruption? He wasn't old enough to read the books on HG Wells or other authors, or watch that one popular TV show with time travel, but he had heard time talked about before. It was a subject that confounded him because on one hand the grownups said that time couldn't be messed with, and others dreamed about going back to their childhood to fix a problem. He couldn't exactly remember anything important on the subject, nothing technical like he could about the space shuttle and the musket. And so he stood there looking confused as the Captain referred to phenomenons he hadn't even thought about considering before.

"Time corruption?" He quizzed, brown eyes looking up at the Captain. It was an awfully big word that sounded scary. It probably was scary, but he was curious to learn more about it. His eyes stole a glance at the blue decorative sparkles on the wall, which seemed to twist even more as he looked at it. He resisted the urge to poke at the wall, and turned his gaze away as he clasped his hands behind his back like the grownups did. "What is time corruption? Is it like those things the grownups talk about?" His eyes were back on Captain Jack. "At school, we had these doctors coming in. The teachers thought it would help our education," he pronounced the word carefully, "If we listened to them. And one doctor talked about time, and another doctor said time couldn't be changed, and then the two doctors would argue where they thought we couldn't hear. I don't think they knew what they were talking about."

"This is one hell of a find. I was expecting a wormhole.. but this? This isn’t one.” Captain Jack was staring at Charlotte now, with a look that screamed j'accuse. She crossed her arms again, trying to stay on the defensive. Inside, she was thinking something along the lines of, Does he know who I am? I shouldn't have given him my name.

His next words seemed to confirm her suspicions. “This is what time corruption looks like. I haven’t seen one of these ever since the Doctor stopped hanging around Mal. Now we have to ask ourselves... Who started it?”

"Well, I came here through normal means, not through any time-corrupting whatever-it-is. Straight from 2014," she added immediately. Charlotte raised her eyebrow at Jack, then offered as best a theory as she could. "Maybe it has something to do with the books... something seems peculiar about them."

Little Eric started speaking about things he had learned in school, from teachers and two doctors-

Doctors. Something about that word drew her attention to her knife in its pocket. She brushed the thought aside. "When I was kidnapped by the Daleks - euh, these alien metal machines - they mentioned trying to find a Doctor. A specific person called the Doctor. Eric, do you think he could be one of the doctors who talked to you in school?"

“Don’t you love it when things work as planned?” Jack smiled at Charlotte pleasantly as he chanced another look at the blue sparks that sprung from the distorted area. “Point your finger and it’s amazing how much you’ll learn about a person without even trying. Don’t worry, love, I didn’t think you did this. But it is something to hear you’ve traveled through time and suddenly, out of no where, time distortion is placed in our hands to deal with. How did you get here? If it was safe then maybe we should test your theory.”

Looking at Eric when the boy spoke, it wasn’t long before Jack’s expression turned stoic. What the kid was saying was suspicious. Why in the world would anyone teach kids about the concept of time? Especially if they themselves couldn’t seem to agree on it. Though, in Jack’s mind, the bloke who disagreed with time changes was an absolute idiot. Hadn’t he heard of the Doctor before? Hell, every human on earth had! “What grade are you in, Eric?” The captain took a step towards the boy, “Why would they talk to you about time? Can you give me a description of what they looked like?”

Jack had to keep in mind what kids told you wasn’t the most accurate. He was sure Eric would try his best to help out, but that wasn’t a guarantee that what he told Jack was how it really was. Kids forgot easily. Or they simply didn’t have the words to recount their experiences.

Charlotte piped in and so Jack let her speak in silence. The words she used alarmed him. The poor girl had been taken by daleks? He could only imagine in horror what she went through using experiences of his own. Well, he had to admit, the girl became that much more interesting. She was definitely someone he wanted to look into.

“Don’t get any ideas.” His voice was suddenly warning, fending off Charlotte from using the boy for whatever it was she needed. What were her motives here? If the daleks brainwashed her like he’d seen done to poor victims before her, then Jack would be the first to fight her off. He’d be damned if he let anything happened to the Doctor- or Eric, for that matter.

(I'm confused. What year are we RPing in?)

A specific person called the Doctor? Eric stared at Charlotte a little confused. There were lots of people who called themselves Doctor. How was he supposed to know which one she was talking about? He didn't really pay attention to them, only to what they were talking about. And they sort of came and went, he only ever saw the one once. "There were lots of doctors," he offered in explanation. "Some fat, some thin, all of them tall." His attention went back to Jack as he asked what grade he was in, and he was about to announce it proudly, when he caught the look in Captain Jack's eyes. Something was wrong, and the boy suddenly felt a twinge of fear, as if he was being interrogated. As if he had done something wrong. He instinctively flinched, and the blue sparkles twisted at the same time.

"I don't know why. They only did the one time. And it wasn't just us 3rd graders, it was to all the older kids too. I just listened." His fingers came from behind his back and started poking nervously at eachother. "They wore white coats like in the movies." Another nervous moment of poking at his fingers, and the wall a little more active in its fluctuations, and Eric asked, "Am I in trouble?"

And now she had just let on to Jack that she had time-travelled when she really should have kept her mouth shut. Charlotte sighed. At least she was now clear of suspicion where the time distortion was concerned. Somewhat. The time-travel hadn't even happened more than once! And that had almost a whole year ago!

Pay attention to what the boy is saying.

"...it wasn't just us 3rd graders, it was to all the older kids too. I just listened. Am I in trouble?" said Eric.

"You're not in trouble. Don't worry." Charlotte had the urge to comfort him, maybe show him the picture book or something of the sort, but her gaze couldn't leave Captain Jack's face. He may not have been a hero, but his face was still handsome, in a rugged, rogue-eque kind of way...N'es pas idiote, Charlotte, she told herself. Look at something else.

She turned her head towards the wall. Time distortion. "Captain... have you ever heard of moving statues? They can displace people in time. Is that similar to what this 'time distortion' is?"

Jack frowned at what Eric was saying. He was right in thinking that the kid wouldn’t be able to recall specifics. Hell, some adults can’t make an accurate account of someone during case inspections. Well, the thing that mattered was the more education the better (unless that information happened to get into the hands of a maniac). But who was organizing for a group of doctors to go to an elementary school to talk to grade three students, a bunch of kids, about things that Jack doubted would be able to truly understand what they were referring to? Perhaps this was something he better look into once the mess in the library was fixed. All of this just seemed too suspicious not to investigate.

When Eric flinched, Jack made an effort to put on a smile. He began to shake his head ‘no’ when Eric asked if he was in trouble, but before he could give the boy some reassurance, Charlotte spoke up. Glancing at the woman, he soon turned his gaze to the distorted area, eyes narrowed as more of the blue sparks moved around the opening. “You didn’t do anything wrong, kid. This might be useful information. Good job.”

Jack turned his attention back to Charlotte, only mildly surprised that she knew more than just the daleks. “You mean the Weeping Angels. Of course I’ve heard of them. I don’t think they’re capable of something like this. They feed off the time energy of their victims. Something like this wouldn’t be caused by them- though it may attract them. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

Clapping his hands together, he rubbed them together briefly before straightening out and taking a closer look to the distorted space. His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer, curious to know when this thing led to and even more curious to know who did it. No point standing around thinking about it, they might as well start exploring the area. “Didn’t encounter anything else in here, did you?”

Eric felt relieved as Charlotte and Jack told him he had done nothing wrong, and his eyes brightened as Jack even said he had given useful information. "Cool," he said, and tried to think harder on what the doctors had said about time. But try as he might, he could not remember, and the images of the doctors in white coats went by in a blur. Instead he focused on the new knowledge going by, angel statues that fed off of time, and time distortion. He wished though that someone would explain what time corruption and time distortion meant. His head was beginning to hurt and he had finally remembered he felt hungry. He rubbed his eye as he stared up at Jack, the man seeming even taller when he was up close to him.

Did he encounter anything else? Jack asked, and Eric looked away over the library. No he hadn't, there were no angel statues, only lots of tall bookcases, and no cake. He was hungry and he couldn't remember where he had put his cake. His hand reached into his pocket, and his fingers brushed by the necklace. He paused, his eyes focused on the floor as he remembered his encounter in the market. It had gone from day to night awfully fast, he remembered running in the dark, and he thought it as strange as the shadow that had been chasing him.

Then there was a whispering noise, and his hand left his pocket. His attention focused on the whispering only he seemed to hear, ignoring the voices of Jack and Charlotte. It was actually trying to talk to him, as he faintly heard his name called. Or he thought he did. He looked up from the floor and focused on the wall in front of him. It was sparkling, warping, the bricks swaying slightly into eachother and then shifting back. But there seemed to be someone behind it trying to talk to him. And so he stepped forward, examining it and watching the bricks closely. And then, on impulse he reached out and touched one.

He was overwhelmed with such a sudden rush of emotions, that he jumped back as if he had been shocked. He stared at the bricks with mingled curiosity and fear, and watched as the wall warped and disappeared into a dizzying array of color. And then it disappeared into a gaping hole, that led to a black world. A scream emitted from it and he dropped down with a gasp, as something came flying out of it, his hair being blown by the generated wind. When he dared look up, he caught a glimpse of a flying black creature as it crashed through the roof. It was, he thought, like a huge dinosaur or maybe even a dragon. He shivered slightly as he looked up at the other two.

"Was that a dragon?"

Charlotte had been looking over at Eric when the little boy touched the brick of the wall and saw when something snapped and a vortex of whirling darkness and color appeared for a moment. Wind caught in her hair and she tried to move to pull Eric away from it but the air from the vortex was blasting her back. Something flew out at her face - something black and scaly, almost like the tropical lizards she had read about but never seen, only much, much bigger. She hit the ground like a soldier and watched as the thing shot through the ceiling.

"Was that a dragon?"

She was about to say "that's impossible, dragons don't exist," but then she caught herself. If statues could move, glittery walls could twist, and time travel could be possible, why couldn't there be dragons? "I don't know. Captain, have you ever seen one of those before?"

As she got back on her feet - ready to refuse any help from Captain Jack, of course - Charlotte noticed that the shadow cast by her book bag was growing. She set it down and moved away from it. The shadow was still growing. "What's wrong with the lighting here?" she muttered to herself.

Jack watched Eric for a while, waiting to see if he could recant any odd happenings he may have seen.  But he received nothing no that account. Scratching at his arm, he turned his attention to Charlotte, figuring he’d explain what he knew about the situation through basic observation to her.  Sure, he figured Eric would be interested but was doubtful the kid would understand what he was talking about.  With a serious look on his face, Jack motioned toward the distorted area and began his explanation, “Time distortion, like I’ve said, occurs when someone uses an unsafe method to time travel.  When this happens there are just two points in one location; it’s nothing I can’t handle and fix.  But the longer it’s open, the more periods of time open up in the breach, and if it isn’t closed before it fuses every time together in one location.. let’s just say I’m not very keen on finding out what happens.

“If a distorted area of time is disturbed- whether it’s triggered by time travel that occurs in its area or it’s touched- it can turn into time corruption.  Do you want to know what happens then?  Nothing good.  So we should try our best not to-”  His eyes glanced over at Eric and realization of what the boy was about to do snapped him into high alert.  “Don’t-!”  But it was too late.  The boy had already touched the very thing Jack was telling them not to touch, and a force breezed them all back.

With horror in his eyes, Jack scooted into a sitting position in time to watch the black space form into place and a nasty looking alien fly out of it. Damn it.  Damn it!  He gritted his teeth and looked around, taking checks on where his company were and noting with relief that they appeared uninjured.  As debris from the ceiling rained down on their heads, Jack leaped to his feet and whirled around, as if in search of something.

“What did I say about not touching it?”  There was no point in being mad.  What was done was done, and Jack should focus his energy on closing the gaping hole and fixing the timeline that was obviously askew.  “It’s not a dragon, it’s a Reaper.  And we’re all in big trouble if we don’t get things straightened out now.  That hole there is a paradox.. and it looks like the Reapers aren’t happy about it one bit.”

He was about to move on, to run out the doors when Charlotte’s bag caught his eye after.  That wasn’t good.  But maybe it was the solution to this mess.  “What the hell have you got in there?”

Eric cringed as Jack scolded him for touching it, and he stayed crouched on the floor. Between Captain Jack's disapproval of him, and the odd creature that had flown out, he was almost trembling in terror. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! It started talking to me!" His arms went over his head as he protected himself from the rocks and plaster coming down from the ceiling. His arms stung, but he was too much in awe, and in terror of this dragon that had come out of the hole. Or no, it wasn't a dragon. Captain Jack called it a reaper. He found it very hard to imagine that creature holding a scythe and flying over the city eating people's souls.

"What's a paradox? And why are the drago-Reapers, mad?" Jack made it sound like someone had done something very wrong, and he had no idea how touching the wall had caused such a huge problem. On top of that, he didn't even know what to do to help. So he lowered his arms, his eyes looking around in fear, and trying not to bolt out the door and run away again. If he ran, that Reaper would probably eat him. He was at least safe with Jack. Then his eyes focused down on the floor, on the strange shadow creeping out of Charlotte's bag. With all the strange things going on today, and his little mind trying to comprehend it all, he screamed.

"I didn't touch it! I didn't touch it! It wasn't my fault!"

The little boy was having a panic episode. "Calm down. It's not your fault. It's not your fault." Perhaps it was, she thought, but she wasn't about to say it in front of the petit. Charlotte turned to Jack, who was solemnly talking about "Reapers." Reapers. From what she had read, it seemed that was the word for la Grande Faucheuse. Death. She shuddered and thoughts of the guillotine eclipsed her mind-

You can't escape it. Charlotte Corday died.

Oh, tais-toi, Charlotte.

“What the hell have you got in there?”

"Books! Just books!" She crossed her arms, staring at the shadow instead of Captain Jack. "You know, what normal people have in book bags. I could name the titles if you want. But... I think it's the shadow more than the books, it's been moving around the library." She backed even further away from them. "But that can't have anything to do with a paradox," she added, trying to sound convincing.

It was talking to him? The red flags had risen in Jack’s mind and waved themselves in the air; it was more of a mockery than an alert. Eric was involved in this and the Captain was determined to figure out how and why. The boy had became a suspect of circumstance in the strange series of events taking place; whether he was a cause or being framed for it all, it was hard to say without more evidence. “What was it saying to you, Eric?” It was important to gather everything you possibly could- better that than making a wrong move that could have been avoided by further investigation.

“Paradoxes are the outcome of bad time travel. If someone goes back in time and changes something that results in that person not being able to time travel in the first place, a paradox is created. And the reapers aren’t mad, exactly... but they show up during a paradox in order to fix it. That fixing of theirs is eating every living thing in the paradox. That makes the whole city a candidate..”

Jack rubbed at his chin, eyebrows pulled down as he thought. It might be best to run a scan on the shadows. By the looks of it they were only growing. It couldn’t be Vashta Nerada, could it? Jack figured they stuck to the shadows, didn’t make them. So what was it? Where was his team when he needed them?

Eric’s scream caused the Captain to whirl around, alarmed at the boy’s reaction. “Hey!” He strode over to the kid and put an arm around him, giving a sturdy pat on the shoulder. “Calm down. Panicking isn’t going to solve anything. Just take a breath and we’ll figure out a way to fix this.”

To Charlotte, he snapped, irritable at the response given, “None of us know what started this paradox. So either you’re going to tell me what’s in your bag, or I’m going to dish it out myself. There are several things happening here that I don’t like; so how about you make this easy on us and cooperate?”

Eric trembled slightly as he looked up at Jack, he looked even bigger when he was crouched down on the floor. "I don't know," he said fearfully. The words that the creature, he assumed the dragon Reaper, had been lost. He was sure that it was calling to him, wanting to be set free, but now he wasn't sure and he could not remember the words. Now that he had done something wrong, he wasn't sure what it had said and what he was supposed to tell Jack. So 'I don't know' sufficed.

He took a deep breath as ordered, and finally stood up, his little eyes wary as he watched the book bag. The shadow seemed to move, grow...well at least it seemed to move and expand. It got lighter as it expanded, and darker as it shrunk and finally disconnected from the book bag. Eric had this sudden fear if he touched the book bag, or the shadow, it would crawl up his arm. But watching proved to be fascinating. Shadows couldn't move on their own, so either there was something above causing it...he looked up towards the ceiling and saw nothing...or there was something invisible moving across the floor, that even light could not escape. This library had broken his sense of the real and the not real, and now he was beginning to wonder what more there was. His imagination was churning as he watched it expand, and he wondered why the shadow seemed to grow faintly lighter. It moved slowly enough to be an invisible snail, or slug. Maybe that was why it seemed to spread out, but why the shadow seemed to get lighter, he wasn't sure. Maybe there were edges on the slug that were slightly transparent and stuck out every once in a while.

What he didn't know was that this black shadow, was actually a mass of creatures known to a few individuals as the Dathvaen. They were tiny almost slug like creatures, and so many that they created a dark mass of pretend shadow against the floor. They had been content to wait in the book bag until it was safe, but now that they had been discovered (and practically dumped out at the same time), they had to find new shadows to hide in til night fell.

As for the Reaper, it flew about the city, screeching, looking for anybody who had contact with Charlotte. It swooped down, swallowing up an individual she had met earlier in the library, but the individuals she had any contact with, or were related in some manner, were few and far in between. Luckily for them.

“None of us know what started this paradox. So either you’re going to tell me what’s in your bag, or I’m going to dish it out myself. There are several things happening here that I don’t like; so how about you make this easy on us and cooperate?”

Charlotte sighed, inching away from the bag. Vulnerable as telling these people her story would make her, she was more afraid of the hungry, growing shadows reaching towards her. "There's a book in there about me. My life. Ever been to the French Revolution?" She gave a bitter chuckle. "Look me up. Before I stab Marat, that is. After, and you'll be next in line for la guillotine."

For a moment, the thought crossed her mind that she was admitting herself to be a murderess in front of a small child. She looked away from Eric as she continued. "The executioner turned out to be some sort of future time traveller trying to harness - what did you call them? - Weeping Angels. One of them sent me to this time and place and I've been trying to build a new life ever since." She stretched out her arms, as if to say "do your worst". "Voilà le paradoxe. Are those... Reaper things going to come after me?"

Charlotte's eyes flickered down to the bag and the shadows. "Do you think that's related to the paradox as well?"

((mal?))

(Sorry, my life is fairly hectic x.x Also, if I got anything wrong in my post please let me know. I think I remember everything the PMs said but I can’t go back and check since I have so many ^^”)

Jack kept his stoic expression as Charlotte spoke. Her words were like a needle that made its work at stitching together all the questions this queer situation presented. If the book in the French girl’s possession had her death written in ink… perhaps she was suppose to die. The French girl’s executioner was mendling with something no one was meant too. Jack tried a few times- and was there to watch the Doctor try as well- but it always resulted in reapers or an alteration of what had to happen. This could possibly mean that the only way to get rid of the reaper was to kill Charlotte-

No, no, he wasn’t going to do that. There had to be another way. Jack would think of something. He figured he was lucky to have had Tyra in his life. Without her he would probably still be the ruthless man he knew was lurking under his skin. So, with that decided, the Torchwood agent started to shake his head.

“Charlotte, what parts of the book did you read? I’m going to go on a whim here and assume you’re suppose to be dead. Yet here you are. The reaper might come after you if you’re the one who started this. Give me the book.” He stepped towards the bag and stopped, staring at the shadows that quickly dispersed to the far corners of the library. Jack gritted his teeth. Great. How much more was going to pile up for him to deal with? The shadows were something else altogether… He once again felt lucky to have befriended Sonya. She was the one who offered him information on creatures such as the shadowy nuisances. What were they again? Darthbane? Darthvain? Dathvaen! That was it. Those were nasty, parasitic beasts… but Jack elected to keep that information from his company for the time being.

“If you see any more shadows, tell me. Don’t touch them. Now, the book.” With an arm wrapped protectively around Eric, Jack held out his hand to Charlotte, giving her a sharp look as he waited for her to give him what he wanted.