Momentum

Mickey's trying his very best to adjust to life in another world, but the discovery of an artefact that could change the fate of the Earth and unexpected budding feelings aren't making it any easier.

Thank you to beelikej for proofreading this for me and for not stabbing me during one of my many nagging sessions.
Spoilers for most of seasons 1 and 2 of New Who, mostly for Rise of the Cybermen, The Age of Steel, Army of Ghosts and Doomsday.

Art by Ladyamarra (LJ | comment) and Medley (LJ | e-mail | comment)

Part 1: Nowhere Man

When it happened, it happened unexpectedly.

"Duck!"

Mickey let himself drop to the ground as soon as he heard Jake's hissed command, instinctively following Jake's example and rolling behind a low garden wall, out of sight. He couldn't see anything except grass and dirt, but he could hear them. Mickey closed his eyes involuntarily at the metal grinding and clanking that seemed to emerge from all around them, becoming louder and louder.

It was always times like these when reality hit him hardest. It had only been three weeks since Mickey had decided to stay here and leave his old life and Rose behind, but it already felt like years. He could barely even remember what it felt like to just stretch down on the sofa with a beer and a packet of crisps.

"Did they see us?" Mickey mouthed, careful not to make any sound. Jake shook his head and put his finger to his lips. Usually, they wouldn't hide like this. Usually, they would take the fight to them. They had the resources to do that now.

After the battle at Battersea, he and Jake had looked up where Mrs. Moore -- or Angela Pryce, whatever her name was -- had lived. Telling her husband and two sons that she had died while saving the world hadn't been something that either of them felt like doing, but her family deserved to know what a brave woman she'd been. Afterwards, her son Jamie had brought them to the shed in the back garden. Inside, there was an abundance of vials, devices and trinkets Mrs. Moore had either collected or put together herself. The tiny room contained everything from smelling salts to electromagnetic bombs, and Jamie had told them that they were free to take anything that would help make sure his mother hadn't died for nothing.

And so, they'd loaded everything into the van and took off. They'd been taking out factories all over Britain for the last couple of weeks. A lot of them were still waiting to be activated, but with all the remaining Cybermen in storage, the better idea was to destroy them all before they could become a threat.

Unfortunately, there were still small foot hordes of Cybermen in the greater London area. They hadn't been close enough to Lumic's factory during the battle to be affected by the signal. Luckily, that was what their newfound collection of electromagnetic bombs was for, Mickey thought with a grim smile.

Not today though. Today they were better off avoiding any Cybermen if they could...

After what felt like a lifetime, the roaring and thundering subsided and faded away, and the suburb began to look like a suburb again. Normal and neat, with well-kept little front yards, as if an army of Cybermen hadn't just passed by their doorsteps.

Still not making a sound, Jake put his finger to his lips again and peeked over the edge of the wall. With a sigh that Mickey gathered meant relief, he let himself slide back down and rested his head against the brick.

"I think they're gone," he half-whispered, half-panted.

"Good," Mickey replied, still whispering, and for the umpteenth time he wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

A lot of the time, he felt incredibly far from home. Sure, he had his Gran back and he was technically still in London, but for all intents and purposes it was a completely different world. There was just no escaping that fact, especially not when you were hiding from murderous Cybermen in a small patch of begonias.

But then there were other times, the times when he felt like he was doing more good here than he ever could have done back home -- his old home, that was. He also felt like he was making a real friend in Jake. And granted, Jake still slipped on occasion and accidentally called him Ricky, but it was happening less and less. Besides, Mickey knew that ironically enough, it was nothing personal.

The fact was, he felt like he was making a real difference here. That he was needed, for a change. It felt really good. And for some reason, so did the happy smile Jake was flashing at him right now.

"Well. I think that went rather smoothly," Jake chuckled, brushing the earth off his clothes. There were small crinkles around Jake's eyes when he smiled, and Mickey felt something pop softly in his belly. And he really didn't want to think about what it meant but if he had to, he was willing to chalk it up to adrenalin.

Something suddenly dawned on Mickey, and it effectively chased all other thoughts from his mind. "Hey, do you think they were after it? You still have it, right? With all that running we did?"

Jake grinned broadly and fished something out of his pocket. He opened his hand and Mickey's eyes widened.

Closing his fist quickly and putting it away again, Jake looked at Mickey. "I think we should get this to Pete first, like we planned. He'll put it some place safe... Or as safe as possible, anyway. And after that, we should really find a place to spend the night, take a shower..." A blissful look crossed his face, and Mickey knew exactly how Jake felt. After spending weeks driving up and down the country and sleeping in the back of a dinky little van, a bed and a shower sounded brilliant...

Mickey glanced over at Jake and repressed the unbidden images that suddenly popped up in his mind. What the hell was going on with him? "Um, yeah. Let's go," he said stupidly.

They got out of hiding and made their way back carefully, staying within the confines of the suburbs, passing under bridges and crossing railroad tracks. They couldn't afford to run into anything now. Not with what they were carrying.

By the time they reached the Vitex building, it was late in the afternoon. They announced themselves in the reception area, their tired and dishevelled appearance in bleak contrast with the pristine lobby and the equally pristine receptionist. She looked up from her laptop, her wine red lips instantly curving in disdain.

"Can I help you?" she sneered, and Mickey thought she made it sound like she wanted to give them a fiver and send them on their merry way before they contaminated something.

"Yeah. We have an appointment with Pete Tyler," Mickey spoke up, trying not to fidget. He really wished she'd stop looking at him like that.

The lady's eyebrows shot skyward. "I sincerely doubt that --"

"Look, can't you just check his appointment book or something?" Jake interrupted. He sounded impatient, and Mickey couldn't say he blamed him. After all, he was the one carrying that thing in his pocket.

"Look," the lady shot back, leaning across her desk and barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes. "There's really no point to it, since Mr. Tyler went home early for the day." She leaned back in her chair, looking slightly victorious.

"He went home? But we had an appointment!" The woman snorted. And see, Mickey believed that you should never hit a woman -- except for maybe that Slitheen lady he met once -- but this one was really testing his patience.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could help you," the lady replied, even though she didn't sound remotely sorry. "Can I accept something on his behalf?"

"Yeah, you --"

"No. That's fine," Jake interrupted him, looking tense. "We'll just make another appointment when he gets back." With that, he grabbed Mickey by the sleeve and all but dragged him out of the building, while the receptionist called out to wish them 'a very pleasant day' in a very fake voice.

The moment they were outside, Jake started walking away from the Thames and back in the direction of the suburbs. When they were a safe distance away, Mickey just stopped struggling to keep up with Jake. He halted and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"What was that about?"

Jake stopped walking and turned around, looking mildly surprised. "What was what about?"

"You know what! Why didn't you give that... thing to the reception desk lady? It's a dangerous thing to carry with you, Jake. Receptionists exist just for taking things out of your hands."

Jake just shrugged. "I don't trust people."

"Oh, but you trust Pete Tyler?"

"Yeah," Jake said simply, and then added, "Look, I know what I'm doing, all right?" He turned on his heels and started walking again, tension clear in his shoulders. Jake's hand was unconsciously hovering near his jeans pocket.

Mickey sighed and jogged a bit to catch up with him. Fine. It wasn't like he could blame Jake for being on his guard. He'd been used to letting Ricky be in charge, and now he was the one who needed to show Mickey the ropes. It couldn't be easy.

"So, what's the plan? We take it to Torchwood instead?"

Jake looked up at the darkening sky, an unreadable expression in his eyes. "Torchwood is a big organization, I don't trust them at all. I'm certain Tyler's on our side; but Torchwood is only on Torchwood's side."

He scrubbed a hand over his face and frowned at Mickey. "I think we should find a place to crash and go see Tyler at his mansion tomorrow morning."

Mickey nodded. "Sound like a plan. But where are we going to sleep? Do we even know anyone in this neighbourhood we can trust?"

Jake frowned a little, and Mickey knew he hadn't really considered that. Jake looked around for a bit, then his face lit up again. Mickey smiled. In the last few weeks, he'd instinctively learned to be relieved whenever Jake's face did that.

"How does that look to you?" Jake asked, pointing at a small shed, in the backyard of a large house, its door standing slightly ajar. There were no lights on anywhere in the house, which meant there was probably no-one there to catch them.

"It looks uncomfortable and grimy," Mickey replied with a grin. "Let's settle for the van instead."

He would've liked to avoid sleeping in the back of the van yet another night, if only because neither of them felt really comfortable sleeping surrounded by weaponry. But after they carefully moved some junk out of the way, they made themselves semi-comfortable on the thin mattresses in the back.

Lying on his back in the dim light, Mickey could see Jake out of the corner of his eye. He had taken the bloody thing out of his pocket again, and was staring at it.

"Hey, d'you want me to carry it around tomorrow? I feel a bit bad, letting you take all the risk like this. If the Cybermen know we have it, they'll come after you."

Jake pressed his lips together and slid it back into his pocket. "No, that's alright."

Despite himself, Mickey raised his eyebrows. "You know, now you're starting to remind me of that Frodo bloke," he said with a smirk.

"Who's that?"

Mickey felt his eyes go wide. "You mean you didn't get that movie? I thought this was supposed to be the same Earth and all that."

"Yeah well, we had Lumic instead." Jake's voice went soft. "Besides, we were organizing a rebellion." He smiled grimly. Mickey felt a brief and irrational pang of guilt about not being here to help wash over him, and he locked his eyes on the ceiling.

"It's alright, you can hold on to it if you want," he said, placating. "I just think you could get hurt, that's all."

"You could get hurt, too, if you carried it." There was something in Jake's voice that Mickey didn't quite know how to place.

"You miss him, don't you?" he asked instead, because he'd never been one to hold back his thoughts. He was almost afraid to hear the answer. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Ricky had meant to Jake, and it wasn't even like Mickey particularly wanted to know, but Jake sounded so sad, so defeated. "I know it must be hard, with me looking so much like him, even though we're pretty different."

Jake folded his arms behind his head and chuckled, even though he didn't look directly at Mickey. "You're not that different, you know," he mused.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in an expression that forced a chuckle from Jake.

"I'm serious. He wasn't as aggressive as he must have seemed." There was a hint of a smile there, and Mickey realized Jake's thoughts were miles away. He felt briefly and unexplainably jealous.

"I mean, he tried to be intimidating because he had to be -- we had to be -- but he was really a gentle soul. Like you," Jake added, and there was that vague smile again. Mickey wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he just knew the question wouldn't come out the way he wanted it to, so he kept his mouth shut.

Jake didn't say anything else, just turned over on his side and closed his eyes. "Night, Mickey," he mumbled.

"Night, Jake."

Mickey folded his arms back behind his head and stared at the ceiling. Jake nodded off right away, his breathing becoming slow and deep, but Mickey felt wide awake and at the mercy of his thoughts. Like he was every night. He was pretty sure he never used to think this much.

---

When Mickey woke up in the middle of the night, his first thought was that he needed to get hold of something he could use as a weapon, because someone � or even worse, something � was attempting to smother him in his sleep.

It took him several moments to figure out that the darkness surrounding him didn't belong to a dungeon or a spaceship but to the back of the van, and that the warm body lying against and partly on top of him belonged to Jake. Jake's head was resting heavily on Mickey's shoulder, deep breaths indicating that he was still fast asleep.

Mickey took a gulp of air and tried not to move. He didn't want to risk waking up Jake, not when this darkness had suddenly become safe and oddly welcoming.

Any other day, he would've elbowed Jake in the ribs until he woke up and rolled over with a groan. He wondered what had changed. He couldn't chalk it up to adrenalin anymore though, that was for sure.

Somewhere near his collarbone, Jake's eyelashes brushed against Mickey's skin, signalling that he was waking up, his eyelids fluttering. Mickey kept still, pretending to be asleep and thanking the universe that he wasn't ticklish.

For a long second, Jake held his breath and lifted his head a little. Then, apparently convinced that Mickey was still asleep, he put his head back down and closed his eyes again. Mickey didn't move a muscle, transfixed on the way Jake felt, on the way his damp skin was almost seared to Mickey's, and on the slowing sound of his breathing.

He wasn't sure what to make of what had just happened, not just yet anyway. Did Jake, still half in dreams, think that he was Ricky?

As it often did when he was kept up by the sound of his thoughts going round in circles, his brain did this weird thing. It concluded that he had been listening to the memories Jake had of Ricky as a replacement for himself.

And if Ricky was the exact same person he was, just in another world, and if he liked, well, guys, didn't that mean that by definition, Mickey did too?

He let out a derisive snort. Beside him, Jake stirred a little in his sleep. That thought was just plain bollocks. He'd been with Rose, after all... Been with her lots of times. And it was good, he thought with hint of a smile. Even though they'd maybe never really loved each other. The smile faded from his face and he shook his head, pushing that thought to the back of his mind.

Besides, this Ricky bloke had been much more of a leader type than he was, so clearly their personalities were completely different.

Reassured by that thought, Mickey closed his eyes and soon followed Jake in peaceful sleep.

The second time Mickey woke up, he had no idea what time it was. One of the downsides of sleeping in the back of a van with tinted windows, he shrugged mentally.

He tried not to fidget. He hated just lying awake and not knowing if it was time to get up yet -- and what a change that was, when only a couple of weeks ago he'd had to drag himself out of bed on a daily basis. He was just considering waking up Jake to ask him what time it was, when he realized something.

Jake was gone. Mickey sat up and flicked on the torch beside him. Jake was nowhere to be seen. Which meant it had to be morning. That bloke had a biological clock like... well, clockwork.

He stretched and opened the back door. The sun was barely up, but the difference between the dawn twilight and the darkness inside the van still made him blink furiously.

It didn't take him long to spot Jake. He only had to do as much as walk around the van before the passenger door flew open, just about hitting him smack in the face, and Jake hissed, "What are you doing? Get the hell in the car!"

Mickey didn't think, just did. The moment he'd climbed inside and closed the passenger door behind him, he saw why that had been clever.

Three Cybermen were marching up a neat little lawn, headed straight for a young woman and her two small children, both of them carrying a schoolbag and staring at the metal monsters in pure horror.

"Electromagnetic bombs?" Mickey whispered.

"Red trunk behind you," Jake whispered back.

Not taking his eyes off the scene that was playing out in front of them, Mickey felt around in the trunk before pulling out three small, round devices. He stuffed one in Jake's hand and bolted out of the car.

He quickly signalled for Jake to take out the one closest to him and then ran around the van, aiming carefully and getting the other two in one clean hit. He barely had time to realize how natural this had become to him as both Cybermen fell to the ground, metallic limbs twitching and jerking in a cacophony of sound.

The electrocuting sounds grew softer and softer, until all they could hear were the sobs coming from the mother and son; and the fast, raspy breaths of the little girl who was clearly in shock. He turned around to see Jake standing next to the third Cybermen, who was still twitching on the ground.

Mickey bit his lip and looked away from what used to be a human being, and found Jake staring at him in awe. "That was brilliant!" He laughed and pulled Mickey into a victorious hug.

Mickey swallowed and it was then and there that he realized what it was he wanted.

The truth hit him hard and fast, and it was almost enough to make him want to reconsider this decision to stay here and leave everyone behind. Not that he could actually change any of that anymore. But now he was bound to someone he wanted to be with -- and he didn't even know how or why, just knew he did -- although he'd never be able to tell Jake that. It simply wasn't something he'd ever be able to expect from Jake. Not after what had happened to Ricky.

Jake was the only friend he had in this brave new world, and he'd be damned if he'd ruin this friendship, now that it was finally turning into one, by opening his big mouth. Even if it meant wanting something he could never have.

Even if keeping his mouth shut felt like it would be the hardest thing he'd ever have to do.

Part 2: Mad world

It was already well into the morning when they arrived at the Tyler mansion. A large man wearing a black tee and sunglasses stood in front of the gates, crossing his arms in front of his chest and staring them down.

Jake realized only too well how they must look after days of driving up and down the country and sleeping whenever and wherever they could. Right after that, he also realized that he really didn't want to be on this bloke's bad side.

"Um, hello. We're here to speak with Pete Tyler, please," Jake offered politely.

"And is Mr. Tyler expecting you?" the man inquired in a deep, rumbling voice.

"Um." Jake scratched behind his ear. "We were supposed to meet him at his office yesterday but they told us he'd gone home early." Quickly, he added, "But I'm sure that if you just ring him, he'll be glad to see us."

The man just stared at them for a long moment, not saying a word. Jake felt certain that any moment now, he'd punch them both squarely in the nose and tell them to bugger off and go bleed underneath the rock they'd been living under.

"Just a minute, please," he finally said, gruffly, before disappearing into the small booth next to the gate. Jake blew out a breath and looked over at Mickey, who was giving him a shaky smile.

The man emerged from the booth again, punching in the code that opened the gate and informing them that they were free to go in and that Mr. Tyler had been expecting them. Jake thanked him, feeling a bit sorry for the guard. The poor man was probably utterly disappointed that he wouldn't be getting the chance to beat them into a bloody pulp today.

Jake and Mickey made their way through the gate and up the driveway, eager to get as far away from the guard as they could.

"Bloody hell," Mickey muttered, "think that bloke's related to Mike Tyson?" Jake chuckled and then frowned when Mickey's elbow prodded him in the ribs.

"Hey, look at that," Mickey said, pointing at the 'For Sale' sign standing in the middle of the front lawn.

Jake just shrugged. "If the love of my life had died, I wouldn't want to stay in a place where everything reminded me of them either," he said softly. He was fiercely and involuntarily reminded of Ricky -- and from the way Mickey was staring at him, he wasn't the only one.

Jake clenched his jaw, guilt gnawing at his insides. It wasn't fair on Mickey, the way Jake kept holding on to the past like this. It wasn't fair on him either, for that matter, but Mickey really didn't deserve being at the white hot centre of all of Jake's issues. He couldn't help who he looked like, could he? Jake made a mental note that said 'think before you open your mouth' and turned his attention to the front doors that were opened wide.

Pete Tyler was standing in the doorway, dressed in casual shorts and a tee shirt, and a smile spread across his face when he saw them.

"I was wondering when you two would get here," he said jovially, ushering them in. "I'm sorry I couldn't meet you at the office yesterday, things have been a bit, ah, hectic." Jake followed Pete as he kept talking and shot a glance at Mickey, who was looking just as uncomfortable as Jake was feeling.

They were led into a large drawing room and Pete gently ordered them to sit down on one of the white leather sofas in the otherwise empty room.

"Sorry about the lack of furniture, guys. I've got most of my things packed and shipped already. I'm moving out of here as soon as I can," Tyler said as he sat down opposite them. "I just can't stay here, not after... well, you know." His eyes darkened, and Jake nodded. He could only imagine what it must feel like to have your home invaded and your wife 'upgraded' into a Cyberman.

Tyler stared at the polished wooden floors for a while. Jake glanced at Mickey, who looked back and chewed on his lip awkwardly. Neither of them wanted to interrupt when Tyler was so clearly still grieving for his wife.

"But hey, look at me," Tyler said finally, looking up with a wry smile and blinking furiously, "getting lost in memories won't do anybody any good, not when you two had something to tell me that just might solve a lot of our problems." He absentmindedly signalled for the housekeeper to bring them some drinks before leaning back and looking at them expectantly.

Jake's fingers drifted towards his jeans pocket before he decided against it and just leaned forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. "When we were in Glasgow, taking out the factory there, we found... something." He gave Mickey a quick look, warning him not to say that they'd brought it with them. He was pretty certain that they could trust Pete, who had been feeding them information on Cybus Industries for a long time. But that was just the problem with spies. It was hard to know for sure whose side they were on.

"It seems to be some sort of key that controls all of Lumic's factories. And since all the factory mainframes are part of a network, we believe that if we can install the code we got from Rose's phone on the key and plug it in in one of the factories, we can take out all the factories at once. All across the world." A small smile tugged at his lips. "We wouldn't have to worry about Cybermen again."

A real grin broke out on Tyler's face and he clapped his hands together happily. "That is brilliant news, boys. Torchwood is going to be delighted to hear that."

Something black clenched in Jake's stomach, and he wished he hadn't said anything. "Torchwood?"

"Ah, right, you two don't know yet." Pete was grinning again. He took one of the beers the housekeeper had placed on the side table and raised it in a toast. Jake frowned slightly but he followed the gesture and saw that Mickey did the same, although his face was lined with confusion. Just like his own, probably, Jake thought.

"Lads, you're looking at the new CEO of Torchwood One. They offered me the job yesterday, which is why I left early. Needed to make arrangements, you understand." He was still grinning broadly, but Jake felt like he'd just been doused with ice cold water.

"So... you're running Torchwood now?" Mickey asked slowly. He didn't seem overjoyed about it either. Pete, on the other hand, was still grinning.

"As of today. Think of all the changes we'll be able to make now that we actually have the means! I mean, if you two give me that key, I can send a team to the old Battersea factory and we'll have all the Cybermen wiped out by midnight."

Jake felt the muscles in his shoulders tense. He was sure Tyler meant well, but getting Torchwood involved sounded like the worst idea he'd heard in a very long time.

Mickey, however, seemed to believe Tyler because he took a sip of his beer and smiled around the mouth of the bottle. "That is brilliant, Mr. Tyler. We've got --"

"We don't have it with us," Jake interrupted quickly. Ignoring the surprise on Mickey's face, he added, "but it's in a safe place. And as soon as Mickey here puts his skills to use in getting the code installed on the key, we'll hand it over."

Tyler blinked, mildly surprised that anyone would ever give one of his ideas the brush off. He shrugged it off quickly enough, because it only took a split second before his salesman smile was back in place. "Whatever you boys think is best. In the mean time, you can feel free to stay in the guest rooms for as long as you want." He smirked slightly. "You look like you could both use a shower and a proper bed."

Jake felt himself blush and suddenly felt very self-conscious in the clean whiteness of the room. "Yeah we, ah, we've been on the road. Thank you, though."

Pete waved his hand dismissively. "Please, you two are some of the only people I know I can trust. Stay as long as you need to. Trudy here will show you the guestrooms," he offered as the housekeeper came rushing their way.

Five minutes later, Jake found himself staring at the king-size bed that took up a lot of the luxurious bedroom. This part of the house was anything but ready for the move, Jake thought as he let a hand drift along the bedspread. He suddenly couldn't wait to get a decent night's sleep.

There was a door to his right, which led into the connecting bathroom that joined his and Mickey's room. He stepped into it, knocking on the door at the other end. "Mickey? Are you decent?" An unbidden image popped into his mind, and he closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, chasing it away.

There was a small chuckle on the other side of the door. "Yeah, come on in." Jake pushed the door open and saw Mickey sitting on his own bed, cheerfully pressing the keys on the laptop that was perched op top of the blankets.

Mickey looked up and grinned at Jake like all his Christmases had come early. He pointed at the laptop. "Pete Tyler just had this brought up so I can work on encrypting the key. You won't believe the things this system can do!"

He moved over and patted the space next to him on the bed, still grinning broadly. Jake gingerly sat down beside Mickey, taking care to keep some distance between them. Mickey didn't seem to notice, he was too busy pressing keys and pointing out things that were 'unbelievable' and 'brilliant'.

Jake just smiled back and nodded, pretending he had the faintest idea what Mickey was talking about. Truth be told, he was just glad to see Mickey happy and carefree like this.

He fished the key out of his pocket for the first time all day and pressed it into Mickey's hand. It lay there blinking at them, like a small red pupil in the middle of a dark eye. "When can you get started on encrypting it?"

Mickey stared at the key and then up at Jake. "Right now, if you like. It'll take me a while, but I'll work as fast as I can." He paused for a second and somehow Jake knew what Mickey was going to ask before he even opened his mouth. "And after that... We are giving it to Torchwood, right?"

Jake stood up briskly, patting Mickey on the shoulder. "Of course. Anyway, I'm gonna take a shower, all right?"

"Jake." He was already halfway into the bathroom when Mickey's voice made him stop and turn. He'd pushed the laptop aside and was staring intently at Jake, leaning forward on his knees. "It was your idea to trust Pete Tyler with the key, not mine, remember?"

"Yeah, I know." Jake said with a grimace. "I just... It's different now, isn't it?" He rushed his hand through his hair in agitation.

"Why, because he's running Torchwood now?"

"Yes!" It came out louder then he'd planned, and Mickey's mouth snapped shut. Instead, he just stared in a way that was making Jake bloody uncomfortable.

Jake sighed. "Look. I said that because I trusted Tyler. And I guess I still do. Like I told you, I just don't trust Torchwood."

"Why?"

It was an innocent question, but Jake was anything but ready to answer it. He gritted his teeth. "I'm going to take a shower." Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind him.

The yellow lights flickered on, bathing the room in a soft glow. Jake felt himself relax and leaned the back of his head against the door for a moment.

He stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the white, glass-lined shower cabin. A deep and blissful sigh escaped his lips as the hot water started to beat down on him.

Maybe Mickey was right, he thought. Maybe Torchwood could be trusted now that Tyler was in charge. He still doubted one man could bring about such a big change to a government facility, but Mickey seemed to have faith in Tyler.

Jake splashed some water into his face and smiled wryly to himself. He wondered when he'd started valuing Mickey's opinion so much.

He had to admit that they were getting on a lot better than he'd expected. There were even times when he could look at Mickey without thinking of Ricky. There were entire days when he could sit about and talk to Mickey without getting that gnawing, hollow feeling in his chest.

And then sometimes the memories came back in full force, careening in his mind. Those were the times when he missed his boyfriend so much that he could barely stand to look at Mickey. And that wasn't fair either, he realized that. It was bad enough that the guy had to pretend to be Ricky to his Gran and some old friends. He was in a new world and he deserved to get a fresh start.

And Jake couldn't give that to him. Not yet anyway. He tried, but sometimes it was just too painful. Other times, Mickey looked so lost and alone that Jake just wanted to reach out and take him in his arms. He worried how naturally that feeling came sometimes. It made him wonder who he was really aching for.

"Oy! Leave some of the hot water for me, will ya?" Mickey's shout came from the other room, accompanied by a thump on the door.

Jake started and stifled a yelp, "Yeah, be right out." He turned off the shower, dried himself off in a hurry and wrapped the towel around his waist.

"Sorry mate," he said, opening the door to Mickey's room and flashing him an apologetic smile. "Time got away from me, I guess."

"Um. That's alright," Mickey mumbled. Jake could've sworn that Mickey's eyes drifted to Jake's chest for a moment. And oh, how he hated these weird tricks that his memory kept playing on him. He felt like he was stuck in a house of mirrors with no idea if things were ever real, or simply reflections.

Jake nodded tersely and headed for his own bedroom while he pretended he could see Mickey swallowing nervously.

He let himself fall down on the large four-poster bed and stared at the canopy above him. In the bathroom the water started running again.

It had just been his imagination. Mickey had been seeing that blonde girl, Rose, the one who travelled with the Doctor. He was probably just projecting his feelings again.

Be that as it may, there was now a definite ache growing deep in his belly. His mind kept drifting to Mickey, showering in the next room. And it only took Jake a moment to imagine Mickey underneath the water spray, droplets slowly running a path down his chest, before he could feel himself getting hard.

And oh, God, this was so wrong on so many levels, but Jake didn't care just now. He just closed his eyes and allowed his hand to slide down his chest, his breath hitching when it loosened the towel and wrapped around his cock.

He began to stroke himself slowly, letting his mind fill up with images he would normally never allow himself to get; images of Mickey, hovering above him with a smile before claiming his lips in a passionate kiss. He bit back a moan as his hand started to move faster.

He came hard and fast and without warning. Instinctively, he bit down on his bottom lip to stop himself from making too much noise as his body shuddered and stilled.

Regaining his breath, he let his head fall back down onto the blankets and groaned. Oh, this was not good. This was only going to get bloody confusing.

He got up and quickly reached for the paper towels in the dresser to clean himself up. And now he was going to need another shower, Jake thought with a grim sigh as he fell back onto the sheets.

He screwed his eyes shut and blew out a shaky breath. Right. So. That wasn't going to happen again. Not just because it would be confusing as hell, but because Mickey was becoming an actual friend. It would feel like a betrayal to Mickey's trust as well as the memory of Ricky, and Jake wasn't sure he could handle the double doses of guilt right now.

A soft rap on the connecting door made Jake's heart stutter, and he dove off the bed and struggled into his pants. "Come in!" he managed to say, zipping up and trying his best to ignore the rather enjoyable friction of the denim against his still sensitive cock.

"Hi." Mickey popped his head around the door. "I asked the housekeeper if she could make us some sandwiches, she said she'd bring them up as soon as they were ready." He smiled slightly, almost cautiously, and then trotted into the bedroom.

Jake smiled gratefully, scooting over a little on the bed so Mickey could sit down. "You do realize it's barely midday, right?" he asked, one eyebrow soaring as he took in Mickey's clothes. He was wearing a grey tee shirt and sweat pants.

Mickey shrugged. "Yeah, I know. But encrypting that key is going to take me one or two days anyway, at the least. And if I'm going to be spending that much time on my bed, I might as well be comfortable." He grinned. Jake returned the grin, then bit the inside of his cheek when he felt his cock twitch against the denim.

He scooted a little further up the bed so he could lean against a pillow, putting some distance between himself and Mickey in the process.

"Hey, Jake?" Mickey said, looking up and briefly glancing at Jake's bare chest again �- and Jake was almost certain he wasn't imagining it this time, and had to bite the inside of his cheek again. "Is everything all right?"

Jake's eyebrows shot up questioningly. "Yeah, of course."

"You're sure, aren't you? Because you seem to be having this serious thing against Torchwood and I can't for the life of me imagine why you would..." He paused, and Jake knew all too well that he was hoping Jake would interrupt and fill in the blanks.

When he kept quiet, Mickey looked at him with something that held the middle between a scowl and a worried frown. "... Okay. Then I think we should use the key to take out the factories ourselves. Just the two of us. Without the interference of Torchwood."

Mickey looked at him expectantly, clearly worried if he'd said the right thing. Jake swallowed, trying to loosen the knot in his stomach. He'd never felt more grateful to Mickey and before he could help himself, Jake had pulled him in a tight hug, mumbling a heartfelt, "Thank you."

It took him a little longer than it usually would have to notice the bulge in Mickey's sweatpants that was pressing against his leg.

Jake screwed his eyes shut. He could feel his own erection begin to strain against his jeans. He was not going to do this.

He pulled back quickly, finding Mickey's face a little too close to his own for comfort. Mickey was staring at him, all wide-eyed and innocent, and Jake could feel rather than hear his breath hitch, warm and damp on his cheek.

Instinctively, Jake licked his lips. Mickey's eyes widened even more but he didn't say anything. He just leaned in to close the distance between them, and Jake had no idea what the hell was happening here.

A sharp rap on the door made them both jump back about three feet. Over the thundering of his blood in his ears, Jake could vaguely hear himself say, "Come in," with a voice that sounded a lot shakier than it had any right to be.

"Brought your sandwiches and tea, dears," Trudy said with a smile, putting the tray down in between them on the bed and telling them to enjoy their lunch before walking back into the corridor.

The click of the shutting door brought Jake crashing back down to reality. He stared at the silver tray and cleared his throat to say something -� anything -� but nothing came out.

In the end, he settled for buttering his toast and eating his lunch in silence. And even though he could feel Mickey's eyes burning holes in his skin, he didn't look up again.

Part 3: Let somebody in

Mickey allowed himself to sink down on the bed, letting out a low, exhausted groan. His eyes closed in relief as his head hit the pillow. Twenty-seven hours of working non-stop had taken their toll on him, but at least they'd paid off. He'd managed to encrypt the key. Or, at least he hoped he had, since it wasn't exactly possible to test these kinds of things in advance. Still, if he hadn't messed anything up, they had what they needed now to get rid of all the Cybermen.

The thought of it made the exhaustion give way to a strange exhilaration, and he forced himself to open his eyes and get up again. He should probably tell Jake and Pete about his small victory before he allowed himself to collapse. The sooner they had some kind of a mission plan the better.

He smiled in spite of himself. He went on missions now. And boy, he never would've believed that of himself a couple of months ago. But then, there were a lot of things that had changed since then... He shook his head and smiled. How had he gotten from being unemployed and dating Rose, to being a member of a rebel faction with a somewhat disconcerting crush on his decidedly male best mate?

No matter how hard he tried, he was pretty sure he couldn't blame the Doctor for all of that, Mickey thought with a low chuckle. The truth was that he was the one who was changing, and he wasn't sure if that would have happened anyway, or if it came with being entrusted with all these things that had been meant for Ricky's life and not his. Sometimes, this whole parallel dimension thing could get a bit confusing. Okay, a lot confusing.

As he reached the kitchen, he resolved to stop worrying so damn much about things he couldn't change anyway, and to just see how things would turn out.

"Hey Trudy, have you seen Jake?" Mickey asked her when he entered the kitchen. He waited for her answer with some reluctance. Focusing on encrypting the key had given him a perfect excuse to avoid talking to Jake - with the exception of the occasional monosyllabic response when he didn't have a choice.

Mickey knew all too well that something had shifted between them yesterday. He wasn't exactly sure what it meant yet. I was definitely something important, but until he'd had some time to mull it over... What if Jake wanted to talk?

"I believe he's somewhere in the back of the park, dear. He said something about testing ammunition," Trudy replied with a smile, tucking a lock of greying blonde hair behind the side of her glasses. Mickey liked Trudy a lot. She was one of those women who said 'testing ammunition' with the same smile on her smile as if she would've said 'baking cookies'. "Did you get everything done then, love?"

"Yup." Mickey grinned broadly. "And thanks, Trudy, I'll go tell him now." He paused halfway to the back door. "Hey, have you been watching Holby City lately? I keep trying to catch it, but it's a bit hard, what with all the travelling and fighting aliens." He grinned and shrugged apologetically.

"Oh, just you wait until I tell you what's happened." Trudy shook her head slowly, clearly reliving the show's recent developments in her head.

"Great. Fill me in when I get back, yeah?" Mickey said, before stuffing a cookie in his mouth and making his way out back. Thank God that some things didn't change when you moved to a parallel universe.

In spite of Mickey's promise to himself not to worry anymore, his mind wouldn't stop churning while he trotted down the grassy slope that led to the woodland at the edge of the Tyler estate. Maybe they should talk. Things would get weird if they didn't...

When he finally found Jake, it was mainly thanks to the noise. Jake was standing in the middle of a small clearing, his eyes narrowed in concentration and his gun aimed meticulously. Mickey watched as, with a series of loud cracks, Jake hit every single one of the cans he'd lined up.

"Right," Mickey said, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Jake spun around. "You can do all the shooting, then." He smiled weakly, and watched Jake walk his way through the twilight. The sun was going down in a hazy shade of pink and yellow, but a couple of stars were already out. They looked a little lonely, all alone in the vast, empty sky, Mickey thought. They only had each other, too.

"I think it'll have to be a two-man job, Mickey," Jake said. He was suddenly right next to Mickey, his words forming tiny puffs of smoke in the air, and for a moment Mickey had no idea whatsoever what Jake was talking about.

Jake clearly took his silence in a completely different way. "You don't know how to shoot, do you?"

That much was true at least, so he nodded. "Well... I have, I'm just rubbish at it."

"Well, we'll both need a gun, I think we'll be pretty overpowered. Come here, let me show you..." With a brisk wave of his hand, he told Mickey to stand in the middle of the clearing where Jake had just been.

"Now, the guns we'll be using release a bolt of electricity that'll short circuit the Cybermen, but the principle of the thing is the same," Jake said matter-of-factly.

Mickey's head turned. "Um. And where are we going to get guns that fire electricity?"

Jake smiled mischievously, his face dangerously close. "Leave that bit to me. Now, stand like this, with your legs apart a bit..." Placing the gun firmly in Mickey's hands, Jake moved to stand behind him. Right behind him.

Mickey closed his eyes and thought about West Ham United really hard, but they opened all on their own when Jake's hands closed around his wrists, guiding the gun and aiming it carefully.

"Right, now what you need to do is aim a little to the side of your target..."

"Why?" Mickey interrupted, hating the way his voice suddenly croaked.

"Just trust me on this, mate," Mickey swore he could actually feel Jake smile just behind Mickey's right ear.

"Now," Jake continued, but his voice seemed to falter and nothing was following that first word.

"Now?" Mickey turned his head with a frown, and found himself face to face with Jake again, their noses almost brushing together this time. Jake huffed out a little surprised breath, his eyes widening.

Somewhere deep inside of Mickey, a small voice was begging, pleading for him to open his mouth and say something intelligent; but somehow he seemed to have lost the power of speech. The unreadable expression in Jake's eyes was making his insides coil and uncoil like a nest of snakes, and it was leaving no room for thought.

When Mickey finally managed to open his mouth and utter another highly intelligent "Um," Jake blinked rapidly a few times as if he was coming out of a daze. Then he took not one, but three quick steps back.

"I don't... I have to go." Jake said, and before Mickey could say anything to stop him, he turned on his heel and rushed out of the clearing and towards the riverbank.

Mickey found Jake in a matter of minutes. He was sitting on the bank of the small stream that crossed the woodland, angrily flicking small twigs at the water. Mickey spent all of thirty seconds debating with himself whether or not he should leave Jake alone for a while, before taking action and finally sitting down beside Jake in the damp grass.

"You all right?"

Jake smiled grimly at the grass. "Fantastic."

"Look, Jake. I'm sorry if I've made you feel... You know. Uncomfortable. I know I have, yesterday afternoon and just now, and I wasn't planning to, I promise." Mickey did his best to muster a smile, but Jake didn't even look up. "I know it can't be easy for you, me looking like Ricky and everything. And I'd never expect you to... you know. " He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, but at least Jake looked up now. Confused, no doubt. Mickey knew full well that he'd never be the eloquent type. But much to his surprise, Jake nodded in understanding.

"Yeah. But it's not even that," he told Mickey, scrunching his nose a little. He looked almost ridiculously cute, and Mickey had to force himself to focus.

"I wasn't upset because of this... attraction, or whatever it is." Jake suddenly looked uncertain, so Mickey nodded almost imperceptibly to persuade Jake to go on. He felt like someone had just lit a match in the pit of his stomach, warming him from the inside. "I was upset because I wasn't upset. Does that make sense?"

"Um. No?"

Jake chuckled, but he still looked grim. "I mean, by all rights I should feel miserable. Or guilty, for, you know..." He waved his hand dismissively, before finally looking at Mickey. "But I don't. I really don't."

He sounded so despairingly sincere, and without thinking on it any further, Mickey leaned in and pressed his lips to Jake's. It was brief, all too brief, and he pulled back quickly, not sure whether Jake was going to smile or punch him.

Jake did neither. He just stared for a millisecond that felt like a lifetime and then he pounced on Mickey, making them both topple over onto the grassy slope, and kissed him.

And oh boy, if Mickey had known that Jake kissed like this, he'd have stopped thinking about matters and undertaken some action a good long while ago. His hands trailed up along the skin of Jake's forearms and then cupped Jake's face as they deepened the kiss, tongues sliding alongside each other. It sparked a slow wave of warmth that travelled from Mickey's toes and pooled in his groin.

Jake leaned in, causing Mickey to land on his back on the grassy bank with Jake on top of him. He couldn't say he minded, really. Not while Jake was making those low moans in the back of his throat, anyway.

He let his hands rest in the small of Jake's back and pressed them closer together, letting out a muffled when their hips met. Yeah, Jake was definitely enjoying this as much as he was.

Jake's hands were roaming across Mickey's chest, the pads of his fingers digging underneath his sweatshirt and pressing hard against his skin. Mickey let out a soft breath, briefly marvelling at how warm Jake's hands were, even though he'd been outside for a long time.

They moved together, kissing and touching and grinding for what seemed like days and seconds. After a while, though, Mickey could feel them slide a little across the muddy ground, down the grassy slope. And he really didn't want to ruin the moment by talking, but they probably had to take this somewhere else if they didn't want to end up in the river. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss.

"We probably need to take this inside."

"Yeah," Jake agreed, breathlessly, although it took him another thirty seconds to actually get to his feet, pulling Mickey up with him. They quickly made their way back to the house, even though Mickey found himself pressed against more than one tree along the way, Jake's body pressed against his in all the right places. He couldn't say he minded, though. The guy had a way of kissing Mickey until he wasn't sure which way was up anymore.

They had barely made it inside the house, out of breath and eager to make it up the stairs, when Pete and Trudy emerged from the dining room.

"Hey, Trudy told me you hacked the key? That's fantastic!" Pete said, grinning at Mickey.

Jake turned, surprised. "You did?"

"Yeah, that's what I came out to tell you," Mickey was suddenly very aware of how they both looked, flushed, grinning and covered in mud and what looked suspiciously like dry leaves and moss. He desperately tried to get his brain to work again so he could come up with a halfway decent excuse for their appearance, but Pete didn't even seem to notice - or didn't think it was odd, in any case. He ushered the both of them into the dining room, talking about assault plans and sitting them down at the large dining room table.

The table was almost fully covered with scraps of paper, hastily drawn maps and typed out lists. Mickey recognized it all instantly as the research they'd been doing on Lumic's factories since the Doctor and Rose had left. There was no way they would be getting out of this impromptu meeting any time soon.

Jake glanced a quick look at him from across the table as they resigned themselves to doing their duty in safeguarding the human race. Mickey shot back a look that he hoped would say all he wanted to say.

A few minutes later, he was pretty sure it had, because he could feel Jake's foot bumping his own and when he looked up, Jake was looking at him in a way that convinced Mickey that Jake was much better at this 'conversation through looks' thing than he was.

He sat through the meeting, nodding avidly and trying to pay attention, even when Jake's foot was travelling all sorts of tables underneath the table. He bit his lip and cursed the tightness in his pants.

When Pete had finally grown tired of going over every little bit of information - twice - and bid them goodnight, Trudy seemed to consider this her cue to start filling Mickey in on every little thing that had happened on Eastenders. Not for the first time, Mickey hit himself inwardly and forced himself to appear interested. He was going to implode soon, he was pretty sure of it.

"I'm calling it a night too, I think. Have fun, you two," Jake said, softly, as he pulled back his chair and said goodnight.

Mickey felt like banging his head into the polished oak table. This was bloody brilliant. He didn't blame Jake in the least, but it still felt like his insides were getting sucked into a black hole.

When Trudy was finally tired of talking, he said goodnight and left the room as quick as he could. Trudy was a pretty decent old girl, but she was not his favourite person in the world right now. What he wanted was to collapse onto his bed and feel really sorry for himself for a while.

However, he'd barely closed the door to his room behind him when someone pounced on him in the near dark. Jake kissed him fiercely, all tongue and teeth and one soft growl that made all Mickey's blood shoot straight to his cock. He pulled back a little, leaning his head against the wood grain

"I thought you'd changed your mind," he said breathlessly.

Jake looked at him, a mild frown on his forehead, and let out an exasperated sigh. "Idiot," he offered, a smile tugging at his lips. Then he claimed Mickey's lips again, and ended the discussion in what had to be the most efficient way ever.

"We should probably talk about this," Mickey gasped, cursing himself right away. It wasn't like he wanted to talk right now.

"Yeah, probably," Jake mumbled, planting kisses on Mickey's neck and along his collarbone. Luckily, he didn't seem in any hurry to have long and meaningful conversations either, not if the way his erection was pressing against Mickey's leg was any indication. "Later, yeah?"

"Mkay." They stumbled to the bed, one way or another, falling on top of the covers in a heap of tangled limbs and soft noises, and Mickey suddenly felt incredibly grateful that their adjoining rooms were the only occupied rooms on the third floor.

Jake was sprawled on top of him, kissing his mouth and jaw and neck until Mickey couldn't think, could process anything that wasn't 'Oh God' and 'Yes, please, oh hell'. Jake's hands were stroking his chest, sliding along Mickey's sides and hips and the inside of his thighs and oh man, his jeans needed to go right now.

He managed to utter something that sounded vaguely like 'hold on a second' and tore himself away from Jake long enough to get rid of his shirt and jeans, watching with wide eyes while Jake did the same thing.

The first touch of skin against skin was even better than it had been in Mickey's head. They moved and slid and touched and kissed, and Mickey wasn't sure how much longer he was going to last, but he knew he needed more than the friction of the two pairs of boxers between them. Trying not to break the kiss, he used one hand to pull down his boxers. Jake got the hint and wiggled out of his own, then pounced back on Mickey, grinding their erections together and letting out a low guttural moan.

Jake's mouth was everywhere, on Mickey's jaw line, on his lips, on his neck and his chest, working its way down at a frustratingly slow pace. Jake's lips, tongue and teeth seemed to have a mind of their own, as they followed a path from his collarbone, catching on a nipple and licking down to his navel.

A shiver ran through Mickey and he arched up involuntarily, aching for more. Jake smiled against the skin of his belly and obliged, inching down further until finally, blissfully, Mickey could feel that hot, wet mouth where he wanted it most.

A loud groan ripped itself from Mickey's throat when Jake licked a long stripe along the underside of his length before engulfing him and setting a rhythm. Mickey felt sure he had to be losing his mind. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to have migrated south, and before he knew it, he was coming with a hoarse cry, screwing his eyes shut as waves of pleasure washing over him.

He opened his eyes again when he felt Jake's lips press against his own again. A hand found itself on the back of Jake's head, fingers tangled in the short strands of blonde hair, deepening the kiss.

He could taste himself on Jake's tongue, and the sensation made a new wave of arousal course through his veins. It took him a little while to realize that Jake was still hard and pressing against Mickey's leg, his hips moving in small circles, eager for the friction.

Mickey let his fingers trail a path down the inside of Jake's arm and along his side and hip. Jake bit his lip, his muscles twitching right below the surface, and Mickey made a mental note of the more ticklish spots.

When he finally wrapped his hand around Jake's hard length, Jake dropped his forehead against Mickey's shoulder and let out a soft sigh. It left a hot, moist patch on Mickey's skin and he shivered pleasurably.

He captured Jake's lips with his own again and they got lost in a deep, heated kiss as Mickey squeezed Jake gently and set at working Jake in earnest, doing all the things he liked and hoping wildly that he wasn't completely out of his depth here.

He figured he had to be doing something right, because Jake muttered a string of words against his lips that were almost impossible to understand, but sounded a lot like 'ohgodmickeyyespleaselikethat'. It would've been enough to make Mickey blush, but he way far beyond that point by now. When Jake suddenly stilled and came with a shudder, his breath hitching and come splashing over Mickey's stomach, he felt absurdly proud. He'd made that happen.

Jake collapsed on top of him, panting harshly. He stayed there for a moment, catching his breath, then he rolled off of Mickey, landing on his back next to Mickey and staring at the ceiling.

"That was..."

"Yeah," Mickey said. He glanced over at Jake out of the corner of his eyes, suddenly insecure. "Wait. You were going to say something good, weren't you?"

Jake chuckled. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Oh, good," Mickey said honestly. "Because I had definitely never done that before."

Jake turned onto his side, looking intently at Mickey, a small frown crinkling the bridge of his nose, like he was unhappy that Mickey was even a little bit uncertain, but his eyes were soft. "Well, you're a natural, then," he offered with a smile.

"Really?" A wide smile appeared on Mickey's face. Then he pulled Jake in for a long, passionate kiss, surprising himself for the umpteenth time today. "Still, it never hurts to practice, yeah?"

Jake laughed breathlessly against Mickey's lips and returned the kiss, his tongue languidly exploring Mickey's mouth until he could feel the first stirrings of arousal start between his legs. He took Jake's face in his hands, deepening the kiss further while rolling over so he found himself on top of Jake, moving against him.

Jake let out another soft little gasp against Mickey's open mouth, and Mickey could feel him getting hard again. With a devious smile, he slid further down on the bed until he was hovering in front of Jake's hard cock. He looked up to find Jake staring at him, his eyes wide and dark with lust.

"You know you don't have to..."

"I know." Mickey grinned. "But practice makes perfect, right?" And before he had time to think it over twice, he leaned in and slid his tongue over the head of Jake's length. From somewhere above him, there came a loud gasp, and the soft vibrating thud of Jake letting his head fall back onto the mattress.

Mickey took this as a good sign and repeated the action, before taking Jake's cock into his mouth. He wrapped a hand around the base of the shaft and stroked it slowly, while he let his tongue work the head. Higher up on the mattress, Jake's breathing was getting raspier, and his fists were clenching in the covers.

"Mick, I can't..." he ground out. Mickey crawled back up the length of Jack's naked form and caught his lips in a fierce kiss. He sped up the movement of his hands, and it was only a matter of moments because Jake came again with a cry that was only muffled by Mickey's mouth on his.

"Jesus," Jake said hoarsely, his lips still brushing against Mickey's, "I bloody well hate to think what more practice would result in. It could kill me, I'm pretty sure." He kissed Mickey again, still catching his breath a little. They were skin to skin from head to toe, exchanging slow kisses and letting their hands settle against hips and necks.

Mickey could almost feel the slow haze of contentment coming off of Jake's skin, but he was still hard and aching for release. Latching his lips onto the soft skin of Jake's neck, he began to move his hips slowly against the spot where Jake's leg met his groin. The movement quickly became faster and when Jake kissed his earlobe, threading his fingers through the short hair at the base of Mickey's neck, his hips bucked in a couple of erratic, jerky movement as his release shot through him, hot fire liquefying his insides.

He collapsed on top of Jake, only rolling away just enough to stop from crushing him. He still had one arm and one leg sprawled over Jake, using his free hands to grapple around and pull the covers over the two of them as best he could.

Mickey felt dizzy with sensation, eager to talk, to discuss, to know every single thing there was to know about this man that was lying next to him, both inside and out. Sleep was quickly overpowering him though, so he let out a deep, contented sigh and hoped that it could wait until morning.

"G'night," he could hear Jake's voice, just as drowsy, and warm against his ear, and within moments, he was more fast asleep than he had been in months.

Part IV: Fifteen Minutes Old

A small ray of sunlight found its way through the crack in the curtains, landing on Jake's face. He screwed his eyes shut and rolled over in the bed. He'd so been hoping to get a bit more sleep.

Carefully, he cracked one eye open, and found himself face to face with Mickey, who seemed to still be fast asleep. Jake smiled and inched a little closer, carefully. He didn't want to wake Mickey up just yet, the next couple of days would be hectic and dangerous enough already, they needed all the sleep they could get. Even if Jake's twitching morning erection thought that sleep was completely overrated.

He tried to ignore his arousal and focused on Mickey instead. He hadn't said anything to Mickey, had tried to make his entry into this new world as normal as possible, but he felt incredibly thankful to have Mickey around. It hadn't been hard and complicated, like he'd thought at first. Instead, having Mickey around felt good, comfortable and exciting at the same time, like a clean slate to retry something he'd messed up the first time.

The thought hit him like a sledgehammer. It was a thought he hadn't dared to think before, but now it was instantaneously lodged in his head and wouldn't go away...

"You're staring at me." Mickey's was drowsy with sleep, but there was a small smile tugging at his mouth. "Why?"

"No reason," Jake said, conjuring a smile onto his face. "Good morning." He leaned in, placing a kiss on the corner of Mickey's mouth. Surprise and happiness overtook him when Mickey leaned into the kiss right away, curling one hand against the nape of Jake's neck and the other one in the small of his back and pulling Jake taut against him. It was almost as if he could feel every inch of Mickey's skin against his own, and a jolt of pleasure rippled through him when their erections brushed together.

They moved together, slow at first, then getting more and more erratic, their skin covered with a light sheen of sweat, hands grappling for something, someone to hold on to. Jake came first, digging his fingertips hard into the skin on Mickey's hips, and Mickey followed with a muffled, 'oh, God' against the crook of his shoulder.

They lay still, unmoving for a long time, exchanging kisses and letting their breaths mingle.

"Hey, Jake?" Mickey said finally, rolling back onto his pillow and glancing over. "What have you got against Torchwood, anyway?"

Bugger. Jake really didn't want to get into this right now, of all times. He got up and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Mickey.

"Look, Mick, there are some things I don't..." he started, and faltered. Mickey was looking at him so intently, chewing the inside of his lip a bit, so honestly nervous about asking Jake something personal, that Jake didn't have the heart to avoid the question. He had nothing in the world, nothing he could ever give Mickey. The least he could give him was the truth.

"When all this first started, Lumic setting up his empire, nobody though that anything was wrong. He was just another businessman with big plans, you know?" He frowned at the wall. He hadn't thought about this for so long. Too long.

"But it didn't take long for the truth to come out. Or, part of it, anyway. The rich people all bought zeppelins while us poor sods were all stuck in... Well, you saw it." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mickey nodding. "And me and my baby brother, we were living on the streets at the time. No parents left and all that, but we did okay." He closed his eyes briefly against the onslaught of memories that came rushing back.

"And Lumic's people, they were trying to lure us, the people with no homes or families and nothing to lose. They got us with free food, the promise of warm beds, you name it..."

Jake's eyes shot open again when Mickey's hand squeezed his briefly, and he squeezed back gratefully. Mickey could probably guess what was coming next, but Jake felt like he needed to go on, now that he was pouring it all out.

"And Tim was barely 14, and he was bloody furious with me for something or other," he found himself saying, smiling and shaking his head at the horror of it, "so when I told him not to get into the Lumic truck, he did so anyway, just to get one off me."

He took a deep breath, steadying his voice. "I never saw him again, but I met Ricky and Mrs Moore not long after that, found out what Lumic's plans were... Found out what happened to the people they took off the streets."

"One day, I went to the Torchwood offices, thinking that if anyone would be able to put an end to the madness, it would be them." He stopped, clenching his jaw so hard that he was surprised he wasn't breaking any teeth. He wouldn't let his emotions get the better of him. Not now. Not after so long.

"They told me that they were aware of Lumic's plans, but that their agenda 'involved only the research and defence against alien threats'. And Lumic was, for all intents and purposes, only human. They knew what he was doing, but they didn't think that any damage he could do, would be worth their time." Jake swallowed the bile rising in this throat.

"That's horrible. That's... That's really horrible, Jake. I'm sorry I asked. But, you never know, he might have escaped, right?" Mickey's voice sounded small, then hopeful, and Jake wished it wouldn't. He didn't do hope very well.

"He didn't. Nobody did. All the people that came out of the trucks went into the factories and came out as Cybermen. And all Cybermen need to be destroyed," Jake said, turning around to look at Mickey. His voice sounded so harsh that it shocked even him. It shocked Mickey even more, though, judging from the look on his face, and Jake instantly felt horrible.

"Sorry. I've just never really talked about this with anyone before. Ricky and Mrs Moore knew that I always wanted the assignments that involved spying on the trucks, and they weren't dumb so I'm sure they had at least some idea, but you're the first person I've ever told this to." He crawled back onto the bed, and the look of relief on Mickey's face felt like a huge weight that was lifted off of him.

Mickey didn't blame Jake for not looking after his brother. He didn't think it was his fault... Jake didn't know why he'd always thought that people would, but the soft look in Mickey's eyes warmed him to his core.

"Well, I'm glad you told me. And I'm really sorry you had to go through all of that. But..." Mickey paused, looking around the room as if the right words were lying around there somewhere. "But maybe, now that Pete Tyler's in charge of Torchwood, he can change things for the better, yeah? With our help, it could turn into something that could really do some good."

Jake looked up and at Mickey, who was watching him intently, worried he'd said the wrong thing again. It made so much sense when he said it, that it almost didn't seep into Jake's mind, and he shook his head a little to clear it.

"You're right." He chuckled grimly. "Of course you're right. I just never really thought about it like that, I think."

That was a lie. Of course you have, he chided himself, you just needed someone to hate, someone to blame now that Lumic's out of the way. It felt so blatantly shallow, all of a sudden, that he got up briskly and walked over to the window. He looked out at the dull, grey morning and tried not to think of anything in particular.

He felt Mickey come up behind him, hovering for a moment before seemingly gathering his courage and putting his hands on Jake's shoulders. They felt good, strong and solid.

Jake looked over his shoulder, giving Mickey what he hoped was a grateful smile. "We should get ready. If we're going to do this thing, we might as well do it right away, and be rid of all the Cybermen once and for all."

A wide grin broke through the clouds on Mickey's face, and he clapped Jake on the shoulder. "You read my mind. The sooner we finish this, the better. I could do with a holiday - I think we both could."

Jake nodded, and they set about getting their clothes on and packing up their duffle bags. He'd made a mental decision to trust Pete, even if he still didn't trust Torchwood completely. Pete had lost people too, they all had, and they ought to hold on to what they still had.

His glance drifted over to Mickey, who was trying to stuff all of his clothes in his backpack with a look of combined frustration and despair. Jake smiled despite himself, and along with the decision to trust Pete, he made a note to himself to completely trust Mickey, too. After all, they worked well together, they got along much better than Jake had thought, and this thing between them, this new thing... Whatever it was, it was welcome and good and exciting --

Mickey's hand waving in front of his face distracted him from the growing fire in his belly. "Jake? Ready to go?"

He looked up at Mickey, shaking himself out of his reverie, and nodded. "Completely." He jumped to his feet and hauled Mickey close by his sweatshirt, kissing and licking his way inside of Mickey's mouth. He yielded easily to Jake's assault, and came willingly when Jake moved back into his personal space until he had Mickey backed up against the wall with a soft 'Oof!".

When they had to break apart to catch their breath, Jake turned his attention to the soft side of Mickey's neck, kissing and biting until Mickey's breath was ragged and coming in short, erratic puffs that made the skin under Jake's lips vibrate.

"We, uh," Mickey uttered hoarsely, "we should get downstairs..."

"Yeah," Jake breathed, making no move whatsoever to step back. He realized that Mickey' had a point, though. Reluctantly, he took a step back, licking his lips and then bursting out with laughter when he saw the state of Mickey, flushed and dishevelled, and with a distinct bruise near his collarbone.

"You look a little wanton there, mate," he grinned. Mickey frowned good-naturedly at him as he tried to straighten his appearance and hide the mark on his neck.

"Tosser," he mumbled as he opened the door to go downstairs, but he was smiling while he said it.

They had a quick breakfast with Pete and Trudy -- or as quick as a breakfast could possibly be when Trudy was in charge of feeding 'her boys', as she'd taken to calling them. They discussed what they were going to do, making it perfectly clear that it would be just the two of them on this job, Torchwood or no Torchwood. Pete didn't seem particularly pleased with the thought, but nodded his consent in the end.

When they'd managed to ward off Trudy's insistence that they have more bacon and eggs without seeming rude, they pulled their chairs back purposefully.

"Time we're on our way," Jake said.

Pete nodded. "Be careful. And when you finish this once and for all, keep in mind that we're going to need blokes of your calibre working for Torchwood."

Jake saw Mickey give him a look from behind Pete's back, but he gave the man a small smile and nodded. "We won't forget the offer. And if nothing goes wrong, we'll be back here soon."

They shook hands with Pete and got hugged by Trudy tightly enough to crush bones. Even the gigantic security guard came by to see them off, although Jake suspected that he just wanted to make sure that those two scruffy-looking boys were definitely leaving.

Moments later, they were back in the van, duffle bags and backpacks tossed in the back and headed south. Because the Battersea factory, which was closest by, was in ruins and its power dead, they'd decided on another one of Lumic's factories, based in Yorkshire. It was the only factory on the island they hadn't disarmed yet, and Jake was almost certain that most of the Cybermen still left in Britain would be gathered near the factory, drawn to the power source.

The actual getting to that power source part would be tricky, but if they managed to get in without getting captured by the Cybermen, and the key did what it was meant to do, getting out of there would be much easier than getting in. Jake tried desperately to ignore all the ifs in the plan.

The drive up north was long and mostly silent. Every now and then Jake glanced at Mickey, who was sitting in the passenger seat and staring out of the window, chewing on the side of his finger. Jake wanted to tell him not to worry, but he realized that he had no idea what Mickey was worrying about.

There was still so much he still didn't know about Mickey, so much that had been just a little bit different in the world he grew up in. He kept going on about this Wife Swap business that Jake had never heard about and that frankly, he was afraid to ask about. What kind of world went around swapping wives?

"So, tell me something," he said, keeping his eyes on the motorway in front of him.

"About what?"

"Anything." Jake shrugged. "What your life was like, your other life. What you did for fun, who your friends were, where you went to school." There was a strange flip in his stomach when he realized that he really did want to know all those things about Mickey. It might be that he never had anything like a normal upbringing himself, he told himself.

Mickey looked at him a for a moment, but then he started to talk. He told Jake about his Gran and how she used to smack him when he and his mates stayed home from school, about him and Rose growing up on the estate, being childhood sweethearts, about the Doctor...

Jake listened to all of it, smiling and nodding, and suddenly the trip seemed a lot shorter. It was well into the afternoon when they made it to the Yorkshire Dales.

They parked the van behind some large bushes, not too far from the factory but far enough not to be discovered by a legion of homicidal metal men. Now they only had to wait until night had fallen.

Mickey clambered over the seat and onto the mattress in the back of the van. Jake watched him dig into his backpack for a minute, before he got a large bag of Cadbury chucked at him. He caught it with a chuckle and followed Mickey into the twilight of the back, stretching out comfortably on the mattress and leaning on his elbows.

"So," Mickey said, opening another bag and unwrapping a bar of chocolate, "do Cybermen sleep?" They hadn't done this stuff at night before, and it was a good question.

"I have no idea. Probably not," Jake replied through a mouthful of chocolate. "But either way, we'll be less easy to spot when it's pitch dark outside."

Mickey snorted. "Yeah, as long as you leave that shirt behind, anyway."

"What's wrong with this shirt?"

"It's practically fluorescent," Mickey said with a sweet smile. Jake tried to look offended but his tee shirt was, in all honesty, a bit on the orange side.

"Fine," he said as he sat up, giving Mickey an equally sweet smile before pulling the shirt up over his head and throwing it in a corner, near the door. He watched gleefully as Mickey's widened and then darkened with lust.

It only took Mickey a moment to recompose himself, and he nodded. "Much better." And damn, Jake could've sworn he hadn't always been this bloody cheeky. He couldn't let him get away with that.

Jake gave Mickey a cold look and dropped down onto the mattress. "We should probably get some sleep. We've got a long night ahead of us, we need to be rested." He curled on his side, one hand feeling around for and grabbing one of the old blankets that was balled up near his feet.

Behind him, he could almost hear Mickey's confusion and worry, and Jake instantly felt bad. He was just about to turn around and put him at ease when he suddenly felt Mickey crawling under the covers with him, his shoes kicked off, burrowing close against him in the unheated car.

Jake gasped and squirmed uncomfortably.

"What's wrong?"

"Your toes," Jake's breath hitched a little, "are like ice cubes." Mickey's feet were making their merry way into the hem of Jake's pants and hell, they were bloody freezing.

Mickey grinned and chuckled against the skin of Jake's bare shoulder, before pressing his toes against the back of Jake's calves. "I know, that's why I was trying to warm them."

A shudder rippled through Jake, and it clearly inspired all sorts of effects on Mickey. They couldn't... They had such a long, hard night ahead of them, and they should sleep. He hadn't been joking about that part...

"But then again, what if we don't make it to tomorrow?"

Startled, Jake turned himself over on his other side so he was face to face with Mickey. "What're you on about?"

Mickey swallowed nervously. He obviously didn't know he'd been speaking out loud. "It's nothing. I'm just thinking... What if we don't succeed tonight? We're just two blokes, and the Cybermen are an army."

"Mick, listen." Jake did his best to sound like the man with the plan, but Mickey's proximity wasn't making it any easier to think. Or to sound cool and collected, for that matter. "It's always gonna be dangerous, but we can do this. I mean, who took out twelve of Lumic's factories on their own, without any help?"

Mickey nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know. It's just that," he paused and shrugged a little underneath the blanket, not meeting Jake's eyes, "now I have something I don't want to lose, you know?"

Jake stared at him for a moment, wondering how he could possibly deserve someone as honest and kind as Mickey. Then he decided that he didn't care how, as long as he had Mickey close to him. Jake pulled him in for a kiss, shivering at the sensation of warm skin against his. Deft fingers trailed underneath the hem of Mickey's shirt, and Jake smiled against Mickey's lips when he felt a shudder go through him. He nudged at Mickey so he'd shift a bit and pulled the shirt up and over his head, balling it up and tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of his own shirt. Then he captured Mickey's mouth again, almost drowning in the sensation of Mickey's lips, his teeth, his tongue.

His hands roamed across the expanse of Mickey's chest, pinching a nipple in the process. Mickey whimpered against his lips, and Jake could feel him getting hard against his hip. His own cock was already twitching at the feeling of Mickey's hands, which were moving down the small of his back at an agonizingly slow pace until his fingertips slipped beneath his

Jake couldn't get his trousers off fast enough. He undid his buttons in a hurry and shoved them down, getting himself tangled with his shoes. Beside him, he could hear Mickey burst out laughing. Bastard.

"Shut up," Jake ground out as he finally disentangled himself and launched himself naked on top of Mickey, cupping his erection through the fabric of his trousers. He grinned triumphantly when Mickey bit his lip hard.

They made short work of Mickey's clothes, needing the friction between them. Jake wrapped a hand around Mickey's cock, planting kissed on every bit of skin he could reach. He wouldn't last long, he could feel it.

"Mick?" he gasped. "Need you, inside of me..."

Mickey pulled back and stared at Jake's face in the twilight of the van. For a horrifying second, Jake was afraid that he'd scared Mickey off, but then he sensed that his breathing was getting more ragged. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice cracking, even though Jake was nodding pretty avidly. "But we don't have any --"

"In the pocket of my jeans," Jake interrupted, tracing his tongue around a nipple. Mickey groaned loudly and then pulled back to start digging through Jake's pockets.

Jake watched him and stroked his own cock lazily, while Mickey huffed in frustration. When he finally resurfaced with the condoms and the small bottle of lube, he seemed ready to explode. The sight of Jake touching himself probably didn't help the matter. His eyes grew wide and he covered Jake's body with his own. Jake could almost feel him vibrating with excitement. He took the lube from Mickey, put a liberal amount on his fingers and began working himself open, closing his eyes and moaning little sounds in the process. It had been much too long, he thought, sucking in a sharp breath as his fingers brushed his sweet spot.

When he opened his eyes again, Mickey was staring at him, his eyes big and dark, his hand stroking himself furiously.

"Hey," he said, but it came out a hoarse whisper, "give me that." He took one of the condoms from Mickey, opened a wrapper and slid it onto Mickey's rock hard length. Then he pulled Mickey down on top of him, nestled between his open legs.

"I don't..." Mickey began, seemingly unable to express what he wanted to say. Jake didn't say anything, but just reached out and guided him to his entrance, planting more kisses on Mickey's neck and shoulders so he'd relax.

And then Mickey was inside of him, and Jake felt full and a little too hot, but then it was perfect. The fire in his belly seemed to have spread throughout his entire body, and he dug his fingertips into Mickey's shoulder blades.

"Move, Mickey. God, you can... You can move." Jake groaned and leaned up to kiss Mickey's face when he started moving, slowly and carefully. He had a look of intense concentration on his face that made Jake's heart full. He pulled Mickey close in a searing kiss when he started to move faster.

They found a rhythm and when Mickey's cock brushed Jake's prostate, he knew it wouldn't be long. He gasped out Mickey's name and pulled him even closer, trying to absorb him completely.

A quick, surprised smile flashed over Mickey's face, but he seemed to get it, because he brushed over Jake's prostate a second time, and then a third, and when he wrapped his hand around Jake's cock he was lost, coming in long, hard spurts all over Mickey's belly.

The waves of pleasure coursing through him sent Mickey over the edge only moments later, and he came with a loud curse before collapsing on top of Jake.

They stayed like that for a little while, before breathing became a bit of an issue for Jake.

"Need air," he rasped, wincing a little when Mickey pulled out of him and rolled away. He already felt the loss like a severed limb, so he moved a bit closer. He had a feeling Mickey didn't mind, and was proven right when Mickey moved his arm a bit so he could fold it around Jake's chest.

"Bloody hell," Mickey muttered, somewhere near his right ear.

Jake laughed, happy and carefree. "You could say that."

"At least we'll have no trouble sleeping now," Mickey said. He snuggled a little closer still, a drowsy edge already clinging to his voice. Jake nodded, bumping his chin against Mickey's arm, and watched Mickey drift into a contented slumber.

He didn't sleep at all.

Part V: Rebel Yell

The factory loomed large and black in the early morning air. To Mickey, who was lying flat on his stomach and gazing through a pair of binoculars, it seemed like an impregnable fortress. And it probably was. From their position on the hill that overlooked the surrounding landscape, they could see small bands of Cybermen march in and out of the buildings.

For the fifth time that morning, Mickey wondered if they maybe they should have come up with a better plan. He knew there probably wasn't one, though. They'd already taken out several factories, and they needed one that was still active if they wanted the signal to transmit to every single one of Lumic's factories and installations. But there was a reason why they hadn't gotten around to liberating this part of the country yet, and that reason was called 'loads and loads of Cybermen'.

He started when he felt Jake's hand squeezing his shoulder softly. "Ready to do this?"

Mickey let out a grim chuckle. "Doesn't look like we've got much of a choice, do we? So," he got up until he was on his haunches, "let's get this over with, yeah?" And I pray I won't let you or anyone else down, he added to himself.

Jake smiled widely at him. "Don't worry too much. If anyone can do this, it's you."

Mickey snorted loudly. It earned him a stern glare from Jake that he hadn't been expecting.

"I mean it, Mick. You got that code to the Doctor. You flew a bloody Zeppelin over a burning building to save lives." He smiled as he looked Mickey up and down. "You're a hero, mate."

And honestly, now he was just trying to make Mickey blush. Especially if that devilish grin Jake was sporting was anything to go by. Mickey shoved him gently, muttering, "Fine. In that case, let's go save the human race, yeah?"

It took two more hours of waiting -- and trying not to get distracted by Jake lying next to him, shoulder to shoulder, warming his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt -- before the army of Cybermen walking in and out of the building had thinned out enough for them to be able to slip inside unnoticed.

And it wasn't that they hadn't memorized the floor plan, it was just that when you were breaking into a gigantic building and trying to hide from the murderous metal men it was full of, it was easy to forget which way you came. So they got lost in the labyrinth expanse of vast corridors and narrow passages until they had no idea where they were.

"Bugger," Jake cursed under his breath.

"Later." Mickey grinned, then pointed at the pipes and cables over their heads. "Let's follow the cables, they'll probably lead to a central system or something."

Jake nodded, smiling and looking downright proud. Mickey didn't have the heart to tell him that he'd gotten the idea from a Steven Spielberg movie. He quite liked that look in Jake's eyes.

It took them another thirty minutes to reach the central command system. It was taking much too long, and Mickey was seriously beginning to dislike this plan more with every passing minute.

He hated it even more when they were standing in front of the consoles, in the middle of a large space with nowhere to hide, and there were suddenly Cybermen coming in through all the doors.

"Right," Jake said, his voice sounding a bit more quaky than he probably would have liked. "I'll hold them off, you focus on getting that bloody key to work."

Mickey nodded, wide-eyed, and rushed over to the consoles. An ocean of buttons, switches and little useless looking blinking lights were staring up at him. He quickly got the key out of his pocket and began the horrible task of trying to figure out how to make it work.

Part of him wished fervently that they'd taken more time to prepare this part, while the other part did his best not to look over his shoulder. He could hear the loud metal clanking of the Cybermen army, their cries of deletion, and the occasional thunk and horrible sound of electrocution.

Biting his lip, he did his very best not to run over to Jake and help him out. A rush of relief coursed through him when Jake's voice reached him, hoarse and shouty. "Doing all right, but you might want to hurry up a bit!"

"Nearly there!" Mickey turned around and grinned right into the robotic face of a Cyberman.

His heart gave such a horrible jolt that it might as well have broken some ribs. He stepped back and felt the edge of the consoles against his back. Fantastic.

Behind the Cyberman, he could see Jake spin around and grasp the situation. All the colour drained from his face in less than a second.

For a horrible moment, Mickey thought Jake might collapse or something. Then he seemed to gather his wits, grabbed one of the magnetic bombs and nodded at Mickey from behind the Cyberman's back.

Mickey nodded back imperceptibly, and dropped to the floor when he saw Jake's arm begin its swing. The next second was filled with that dull sound of short-circuiting electronics and the smell of burnt wiring.

Mickey covered his head instinctively as the Cyberman fell to the ground. Peering through his arms, he could see the smouldering remains lying inches away from him. He clambered back to his feet, shouted a quick thanks to Jake and ran back to the consoles.

And whatever he hadn't seen minutes ago, seemed incredibly clear and easy now. He smiled, small and private, and inserted the key.

"Mickey!"

Mickey spun around at the sound. Jake was completely surrounded. Mickey felt his heart leap into his mouth, his gaze darting from the danger at hand to the consoles. Even if he ran over to help Jake, there were too many Cybermen for them to take on between the two of them. He had to get the key to work, it was the only solution.

Thinking fast, he called for Jake's attention, dug an old smoke bomb out of one of his trouser pockets, and tossed it at Jake, who grinned his thanks as he caught it.

It only took Mickey a few more moments to insert the codes. He watched as the key glowed a soft red, feeling like maybe, all their troubles were almost over. Then he glanced over his shoulder and saw the force of the transmission roll like a wave through the room, taking out all the Cybermen in one fell swoop.

The force of the blast sent Jake flying across the room. He landed against the far wall with the dull sound of something snapping. Mickey could feel his stomach twist and clench.

He rushed over to Jake, avoiding the metal corpses strewn across the room and dropped to the ground next to Jake's unconscious form. His hands hovered up and down his body, afraid to touch him out of fear of doing something wrong.

"Jake?"

There was no answer. He looked down at his mobile phone. The signal had knocked out his phone, too, as it turned out. Mickey slumped down against the wall, his hand trailing slowly up and down the skin of Jake's forearm. He had no idea what to do.

He sat there for God only knows how long, helpless and alone, staring at Jake. After what seemed like a lifetime, Jake's breathing changed a little, his eyes still shuttered.

"Jake! Are you all right? I think you broke something," Mickey said, feeling incredibly dumb and useless.

Jake groaned. "Yeah. I think it's my shoulder." He made a move to get up, winced and slumped back down, his eyes falling shut again.

Mickey's eyes widened. The back of Jake's head was caked in blood. "Jake? Jake, don't fall asleep, mate. You're probably concussed or something."

Scrambling to his feet, Mickey fumblingly helped Jake to his feet. He looked groggy and bloody, and his arms was sticking out at an odd angle. "We need to get you to a doctor, okay? Get up, come on."

Jake mumbled words Mickey couldn't understand, that probably weren't even words at all, but in the end he came willingly. It took them much longer than it normally would have to get Jake bundled up in the car in a way that didn't cause him an excruciating amount of pain.

There were almost no dead Cybermen on their way to the car. It only briefly registered in Mickey's mind because he was too busy thinking about other things, but it felt a little strange. Of course, they hadn't ever been a hundred percent certain what the key would do, but Mickey had assumed that they would all drop to the ground like the ones by the mainframe had done.

He made a mental note to check with Pete when he got the chance. There were more pressing matters at hand right now.

Mickey got into the van and looked frantically at the dashboard in front of him. He'd never been the one driving this thing before. He put the van in reverse and glanced anxiously at Jake, who let out the longest moan of pain at the jolt in his broken bones and passed out because of the pain.

Mickey sped down the motorway, chewing on his lip and shooting worrying glances at Jake whenever he could. If anything bad, anything irreversible happened, he'd never forgive himself. Never, when thinking about this mission and how they would fare, had he thought that Jake would be the one to get hurt. He'd almost expected to get hurt -- or worse -- himself, but this was ten times worse than that.

The drive back to London seemed to take an eternity, but after a while time seemed to slow down and come to a full stop, until he found himself sitting in Jake's guest room at the Tyler mansion, with Jake fast asleep in the bed next to him. He realised he must have lost a few hours, and he blinked slowly at the receding light coming from beyond the window.

"He'll be fine, dear. Try to get some sleep, all right?" Trudy's voice came quiet and thick through the fog of Mickey's thoughts, and he found himself nodding with slow determination until he heard the bedroom door close.

Mickey forced his eyes to focus. Jake was still in his bed, his arm and shoulder covered in a white cast, an already stained bandage wrapped around his head. Mickey felt cold inside. Apart from three fractures in his shoulder, arm and wrist, the doctor had said that Jake had also sustained a severe concussion. We'll have to wait to see if there's any permanent damage, he'd said. Mickey felt queasy, just hearing the doctor's voice play over and over in his head.

Night fell and turned back into morning, and Mickey didn't move from his seat. He was too exhausted to sleep, but at one point, he must've nodded off because the next moment when he opened his eyes, Jake was staring at him with hazy eyes.

"Hi," Mickey said, suddenly awake and wide-eyed.

"Hi."

"How are you feeling?" And wow, Mickey felt like hitting himself for asking dumb questions like that.

"Pretty awful," Jake said, chuckling, but then he winced. He was rapidly turning a pale shade of green, his face contorting into a grimace as he tried not to dry heave through the nausea and dizziness. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he kept muttering, but it sounded more like a mantra and did nothing to convince Mickey that he really was.

Jake started coughing again, reaching for the glass on his bedside table and tipping it over when he retched violently.

"Don't worry, I'll get you a new one!" Mickey said in a hurry, but he almost fell over his own feet trying to get to the sink, blinking furiously. The warmth of the heating in the room and the heady scent of the disinfectants made him feel drowsy.

He felt a little bit better after he'd thrust the glass into Jake's hand and watched him drink, slowly and carefully, calming down more with every sip. And really, what did he have to feel so bad about? He wasn't the one stuck in a bed, going a sickly shade of green whenever he tried to breathe deeply. If anything, it was his fault Jake was lying there now.

A jolt shot through him when he felt Jake's hand close over his own. "It wasn't your fault." It didn't sound coddling, on the contrary. It sounded angry, more than anything. "It was a stupid little fluke we didn't think about, that's all."

"Yeah, but I should've looked --"

"Mickey." Jake looked stern, which was fairly impressive, considering how peaky his face was. Mickey shut his mouth and looked at his hands.

For the next few weeks, he alternated between watching over Jake like a hawk when he was resting, and avoiding him like mad on the rare occasions when he was awake and coherent enough to want to talk. He spent time in the grounds, alone at first and later with Jake, taking short walks as he got back onto his own feet, slowly but surely.

And of course, Mickey was incredibly relieved that Jake was getting better and better. There didn't seem to be any permanent damage, if you disregarded the fact that he still got dizzy spells. The doctor had told them that they might never go away again, and Mickey felt horrible just thinking about it.

But under the relief was something else. There was the nagging thought -- more than a thought, a suspicion -- that the more Jake's health improved, the more detached he was growing. He was affectionate, of course, and determined to get Mickey's clothes off a lot more often than was probably healthy for him. But underneath that, Mickey felt like there was a wall that was being put up, shielding all of his thoughts and emotions from the outside world.

Mickey didn't want to ask. He had the horrible feeling that once he did, once he turned this feeling into words, there would be no coming back from it. But apparently, something strange inside of him decided had otherwise. And that was how he found himself one afternoon, sitting on the bank of the waterfront next to Jake. It was the place where they'd had their first kiss.

"You seem a bit different. Is everything all right?"

He looked up and caught the look in the eyes of Jake, who didn't even pretend not to know what Mickey was talking about.

"I've been thinking," Jake said, picking at a patch of grass, and Mickey's heart sank. "About Ricky, and about my brother." He looked up. "And about you."

"Yeah? What did you think about exactly, then?" Mickey said, trying to force a smile and seem light-hearted even though he knew what was coming.

"I haven't really dealt with anything yet, have I? I got thrown into this whole rebellion mess after my brother, and then I picked up the good fight with you and Tyler after Ricky. I've been so busy, and these past few weeks, when I really had no other choice but to sit still and let my thoughts keep me company, I realised that I'm doing too well."

Mickey didn't try to pretend like the words didn't sting. He'd done his best to keep Jake busy whenever he could, whenever he wasn't doing smaller jobs for Torchwood -- and Mickey still needed to tell Jake about that, but oh boy, was now ever not the time for that. The point was, he'd worked so hard to keep Jake busy and entertained while he was recovering.

Mickey firmly ignored the little voice inside of him that said that was the whole point Jake was making.

"He was my boyfriend." Jake was still trying to find the right words. "And then he died. And you were there, and we got along so well, and I never got the chance to grieve properly." He paused. "And I'm not sure I can do that when I'm here with you."

"What are you...?" Mickey tried to find the words that would tell Jake everything he wanted to say, but he'd never been great with words. "Look, I get it if you don't want to be confronted with seeing Ricky's face all day, every day, but --"

"Oh, Mickey, no. That's not it at all." Jake actually looked appalled at the suggestion. He took Mickey's face in his hands, trailing the lines of it with his fingers. Mickey tried not to worry.

"See, I like to think I know you pretty well by now." A soft smile crept onto Jake's lips. "And I hardly ever see the likeness anymore. You're so different from Ricky, and not just on the inside." His eyes followed the movement of his fingers, drifting across Mickey's face. "He frowned when he was confused, you raise one eyebrow. He pressed his lips together when he was upset, and you bite your lip and rub the back of your neck."

He smiled and locked eyes with Mickey. "Every person's different, even if they happen to look alike. It's not that. I just think that maybe... I need some time to deal with everything on my own."

Mickey stared, didn't know what to say. No, you're wrong, he wanted to say. You're going about this all wrong. You don't need to shut yourself in, do everything on your own, oh you're so wrong. But he nodded and mumbled, "All right. If that, um, that's what you want." He didn't look at Jake as he said, he didn't think he'd able to stand the look on his face and not break.

But then he did look up, of course, and Jake was staring at him with a mixture of gratitude and grief. It was so much more than Mickey could stand, and he took a step closer to Jake when there was a loud knock right before the door burst open wide.

"Lads! There's trouble," Pete never bothered with things like solid context.

"What kind of trouble?" A frown appeared on Jake's face.

Pete licked his lips nervously and looked from Jake to Mickey. "It's Rose and the Doctor. We think they're in deep trouble."

It was barely 45 minutes later when they were all sitting in Pete's office at Torchwood One. Jake was looking around anxiously, like the walls were going to jump out and get him. He was also very diligently avoiding catching Mickey's eyes. Frankly, it was getting on Mickey's last nerve. If Jake wanted to make a 'mature decision' like he had, he should at least be able to be around Mickey and be somewhat professional. And wow, since when had he begun to think about professionalism and mature decisions?

Whatever going on between the two of them, it was completely lost on Tyler, who was looking at them both with something like fatherly pride. "Boys, we're going to need you two on this." He explained to them about the Rift that had appeared between dimensions, letting the threat of the Cybermen disappeared into a world that was by no means equipped to deal with them.

It definitely explained where all the Cybermen had gone. Mickey wished fervently that it hadn't been caused by him using the key.

He didn't have the courage to ask, feeling like a coward. They shouldn't have used an object that they didn't understand fully...

Pete was still nattering on. "Nobody on my staff knows the Cybermen like you two. So I'm officially appointing you both as field agents --"

"Hey, hold up --"

"Fine." Mickey clenched his jaw tersely, shooting Jake a quick glare and daring him to rebuke Tyler's offer. It wasn't Jake's world that was in peril now, it was Mickey's, and he wanted to do his part to help. He'd need Jake around for that, whether the guy wanted it or not. He was always at his best when Jake was around.

Jake looked at Mickey, hard, and sighed. "Okay, what's the mission?" He muttered something after it that sounded a lot like 'I'd so hoped I'd seen the last of the Cybermen...'

Mickey wanted to tell him that he wasn't the only one. Instead, he said, "Right. Let's go save the human race, yeah? Again.

Part VI: The other side

After they'd all returned, Rose had spent the first five days locked up in her guest room. Mickey had hovered in front of her doorway, unsure whether or not to knock, but in the end he never did and headed outside instead, trying to get out of the house and the tension it was full of.

On the sixth day, he found her on the front steps of the Tyler mansion, which was back in full use, now that Pete and Jackie were getting on surprisingly well. Mickey tried not to ruminate too much on how weird that was when you thought about it for longer than ten seconds. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up to Rose and gingerly sat down beside her.

"Hey. Getting some fresh air?" he asked awkwardly. What was he supposed to say?

Rose just smiled and shoved him playfully with her shoulder. "There's no need to be walking on egg shells, Mickey, I'm fine. It's not like I'm dying or anything."

Mickey shrugged. "Yeah, I know that. I just figured that it was difficult, you know? Because, well, I decided to stay here, but you and your mum didn't really have a choice in the matter, did you?"

Rose's shoulder shook in a quick shrug. "It could've been a lot worse, you know? I mean," she went on in a slightly lowered voice, "my dad's here. Well, not my real dad, but sort of like my dad. You know?"

Mickey grinned. "Oh trust me, I know exactly what you mean."

"He even offered me a job at Torchwood, like you and Jake. So it's not like I'll have to go back to working in a shop. It's just..."

"You miss him."

"Yeah."

Mickey frowned at his hands because glancing back at Rose. "Look, I'm really sorry."

Rose grinned, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Sorry for what? You didn't do anything."

"Well, no. But..." Mickey stared at the concrete step he was sitting on. Then he took a deep breath and said something he'd been thinking about for the past couple of days. He hadn't been able to say it out loud yet, afraid that it would make it real, but he figured he might as well get it over and done with. "I might it might have had something to do with me. With the key I used to get rid of the Cybermen..."

A heavy silence fell over them, and Mickey almost felt it like a weight on his back. But when he looked up to catch Rose's eyes, she was just staring at him incredulously.

"It wasn't your fault, Mickey. The Daleks were the ones to bleed into our world, the Cybermen just followed."

"All right, I know that. But that key... We were so sure it would kill them. And instead they vanished and escaped."

"They would've found a way to do that either way," Rose said, putting her arms around him in a sideways hug. "If there's one thing I've learned from travelling with the Doctor, it's that sometimes you make the wrong decision for the right reasons -- and that's much better than the other way around, I promise you. The important thing is that you're a good bloke, Mickey Smith. History would've run its course, with or without you, but at least you're in it for all the right reasons." She gave him a huge smile.

"When did you get to be so wise?"

Rose grinned cheekily. "Around the same time you started saving the world, I suppose." She swatted him playfully on the arm.

They hugged, and Mickey wished they didn't have to cut this short -- they hadn't talked like this since before they met the Doctor, and maybe not even before then -- but he had some more unfinished business to tend to.

"I should go and talk to Jake."

Rose nodded, biting her lip a little. "Yeah, he seemed to be a little bit... Quiet. I think he's upset that I'm taking up so much of your time."

Mickey shrugged noncommittally. "That's probably one of the reasons. I don't know. Either way, I should probably go and clear some things up." He hesitated for a moment, clearing his throat awkwardly before continuing. "And I need to tell you about some stuff."

Rose smiled, her eyes so full of understanding that Mickey felt pretty certain she knew exactly what he wanted to say. She waved dismissively. "Tell you what, you can tell me later. Go clear up things with Jake first, yeah?"

She beamed at him, and he gratefully grabbed her in another bear hug before she got up and walked back into the house.

Mickey got up, slowly making his way back to the river. He did that a lot these days. There hadn't been much else to do with Rose staying up in her room. Jake still avoided him whenever he could get away with it. The only ones who seemed to have hit it off were Jackie and Pete, despite the very different stories that defined them and their lives. But either way, the constant giggling and canoodling like two teenagers in love wasn't making Mickey any more eager to spend much time with them.

He sat down heavily in the warm, wet grass. It was hot outside, pressing down on every bare inch of Mickey's skin, but the clouds were slated dark grey against the black outlines of the trees. It only took a few minutes before the first warm drops of rain started to hit his face.

And really, he thought, if Pete and Jackie could make this thing work, it shouldn't be this difficult for him and Jake, should it? Jake might have been spouting all that nonsense about needing to be alone in working through things, but frankly, that was a load of rubbish.

The rain quickly turned into a torrential downpour but he didn't move and just let the raindrops coat his skin and clothes. Something inside of him was stirring, some urge to do something big, something with meaning.

He got up just as the downpour stopped and shook his head like a wet dog. His clothes clung to him and his back was caked in mud. He made his way across the misted grounds, making sure not to run into anyone, and he didn't stop until he reached Jake's door.

It sort of felt like he'd spent the better part of these last couple of weeks in this exact situation -- waiting for Jake to let him in -- and he could only hope that after tonight, he'd be in the situation where he didn't have to wait for permission.

Of course, for that to happen, Jake would have to let him into the room first. There was no response. Mickey knocked again.

"Jake?" he tried, knocking a third time. He hovered restlessly on the spot for another minute, but when he was convinced that Jake was either out or unwilling to talk to him, he sighed and moved over to his own room, only walk right back out again. This was getting ridiculous.

He felt dazed when his hand reached up, seemingly of its own accord, and twisted the door knob.

Jake was sitting cross-legged on his bed, listening to music through his earphones. He lifted his head when Mickey walked in, one eyebrow raised in surprise. "What's going on?" he asked immediately.

"I've thought about it," Mickey said, pushing his way into the room, "and my answer is no."

"Um." Jake's other eyebrow soared to match the first. "All right. The answer to what question?"

"The whole, ah," Mickey waved his hand vaguely, "taking some distance thing. I don't think it's a good idea. At all. Let's not do it."

Jake spared him a look that held the middle between exasperation and tenderness. "That's not just for you to decide though, Mick."

"I know. But neither was it just for you to decide, was it?" Mickey retorted quickly, feeling a bit smug when Jake didn't have a response. Mickey one, Jake nil, he thought.

"Look", he finally said, sighing gravely and sinking down onto the bed. "I know you feel like you've got all this introspection to do and what have you, but basically, I think you're full of crap."

Jake's eyebrows soared even further. He looked mildly annoyed. "Excuse me?"

"Jake, no one should be alone in getting through things. Hell, that's why we keep other people around, you know? So we don't have to go through life alone, so we have someone around we can lean on when things get dodgy."

"That's not the only reason I'd keep you around," Jake replied, sinking down next to him and smiling faintly at the carpet.

Mickey looked up, a grin tugging at his lips. He quickly decided not to get distracted, and instead said, "I know you want to shut yourself off from everyone and everything, but life doesn't work that way, all right? You have to muddle through it, and you don't get time outs."

Jake snorted through his nose and shoved his shoulder playfully. "And what movie did you steal that from?"

"Oh, bite me," Mickey shoved back, grinning. His heart felt light with the way Jake was responding to him. He hadn't had much hope, to be honest.

What he hadn't expected was Jake giving him a quick and crazy grin before shoving him hard so he toppled back onto the mattress and found himself straddled with Jake biting his neck, soft but insistent.

And okay, this was a much better response than he'd anticipated, but still. Jake pulled back a little, smiling happily at him, and Mickey was just about ready to delay all further talking.

"You're right," Jake said, his voice so soft that Mickey wouldn't have known what he'd said if he wasn't already watching Jake's lips with great focus. "Oh, God, you're so right. Thank you."

Mickey frowned. "For what?"

Jake shrugged and Mickey felt it all over his body. He bit his lip. "I don't know, for being you. For putting up with me and being persistent as hell. I think I could use a swift kick up the rear every now and then."

Mickey smirked and was ready to comment on that, when Jake's lips found his own, and he decided to save the talking for later. A little voice inside of him whispered that they probably needed to talk things through a little further before diving head first back into all of this. It wasn't the part of him that happened to be controlling his actions now though, so he decided to stop worrying for just this once.

He arched up and returned the kiss, threading his fingers in the short hairs in the nape of Jake's neck.

"You know, you don't have to thank me by, you know. Thanking me," Mickey offered, trying to sound nonchalant and not like this was something he'd been thinking about for six days, two hours and seventeen minutes straight. It wasn't really working, though.

Jake just rolled his eyes and went back to nibbling on the side of Mickey's neck and the skin right below his ear. He mumbled something that sounded a lot like, "I know that, you tosser. I want to."

"Oh, okay. Carry on," Mickey breathed, choking a little

They were better after that. Things hadn't magically been solved and Jake still shied away from him at times, but they were doing all right, all things considered. Mickey didn't even mind the fact that he kept having to sneak into Jake's bedroom every night.

They hadn't told anyone about the two of them yet. Mickey wasn't so sure he was ready for that yet, especially not when it concerned Rose and Jackie. After all, they'd known him all this life and apart from his Gran -- who wasn't actually his real Gran, who held loving memories of Ricky instead of him -- they were as much of a family as he'd ever had.

But it wasn't easy with Rose desperately holding on to the parts of her life that she still knew. In reality, that translated to her Mum and Mickey. And with Jackie and Pete spending a lot of time alone in the master bedroom, doing things Mickey preferred not to think about, that translated in Rose spending all her time with Mickey.

And it wasn't as if Mickey minded having long talks with Rose about things that had happened to them as children and as teenagers. It was more that he thought she was using it as a means to stop herself from thinking about the Doctor. And Mickey wasn't that guy anymore. He hadn't been playing the second violin since he stayed on this Earth, and he wasn't about to go down that road again.

Besides, this was really eating at the time he got to spend with Jake.

So it was with lead in his feet that Mickey was now walking down the short flight of stairs that led into the kitchen. Popping his head around the door, he could see Rose sitting at the table, reading a book and drinking tea from a gigantic mug.

"Hi."

Rose's eyes lifted and she beamed a big smile at him. "Hi! D'you want a cup of tea or anything?" She pointed at the steaming kettle on the stove behind her.

"No, that's all right. Actually, I was hoping we could have a chat, maybe?"

"Sure, what about?" Rose looked happy and interested, and Mickey realized she was expecting more reminiscing about life on the estate. She looked so happy just then, much happier than Mickey had seen her since she got trapped here. There was no way he could bear to see that smile wiped off of her face.

He clenched his jaw and reminded himself that he wasn't the same person he used to be, back when they were kids. And with all the history they'd had together, if anyone deserved to know everything that had happened to Mickey in his new life, it was Rose.

So he told her everything.

And when he was done, he told her the following. "I've been talking about it with Pete. Or, he was asking me if I thought you looked lonely." Rose looked ready to protest, so Mickey quickly cut her off. "And he said that there may be something that Torchwood can organise. For you to see the Doctor again. It would just be one time, and we're not sure it would work --"

The look on Rose's face was all the answer he needed, and the hug she squeezed the air out of him with, convinced that, yeah, it was an all right life.

FINIS