A/N:- Many GIANT postbox-sized thanksies, to lollzie, CantThinkaNuffin, Sera and xLaramiex, for your groovy reviews!! They are muchily appreciated. XD

This 'fic revolves mostly around Tosh!

Am sorry for the later-than-late update! Was vair busy struggling to update the rest of my fanfics! That, and this baby of a 'fic has been very stubborn – lobbing and screeching different ideas at me, so I was vair confuzzled for awhile… ;D

Disclaimer: Ooh, me own Torchwood?! Now, that would be the day that Mr. Bamber turned nice, the human race stopped eating meat (How I wish… lol!)and the chickens rebelled against us!! My only creation is Chichow! And even then, I used my maniacal, evil genius of a mind to create this name using a conveniently placed Pot Noodle. And yesh, yesh, I know this is s'posed to be a bit of horror 'fic. (Speaking of that, just lemme me know if you ever think the rating should up.)

Toshiko stopped. She just stopped. The chunky black file in her hand clattered to the floor, her hands simply freezing in mid-air. She tried to move, but all her limbs were unresponsive and she couldn't even seem to open her mouth. Time seemed to come to a stand still around her; the whole world around her dissolved into a small whoosh and pop of the air, everything blurring around her.

What was happening to her?!

Toshiko wanted to believe that nothing was wrong, that it was just her mind playing tricks on her and everything would be fine in a moment or two. She wanted to believe that everything would be just fine and she would, once more, be able to hear the early-morning buzz of her colleagues: Ianto notifying the team of the gruesomely murdered government officials, Owen making a mockery out of something or other, Gwen prodding Ianto with questions about the new case being considered and Jack… just being Jack. But she knew better that.

There was something wrong. And it didn't take the young Japanese girl more than a gut-instinct to know this. A ghosting of hot breath trailed down the back of her neck and an unintelligible voice whispered into her ear. A shiver rippled down her spine and goose-bumps formed up and down her arms..

"Toshiiiiiiko," a bodiless voice sang. A sort of... purple wind circled her, sending her the chills. She could feel her pulse suddenly quicken. "Toshiiiiiiiiiko Saaaaato. Chichow know your name!"

There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. Everything would be OK. There was nothing to startle about. It was probably just an escapee alien that had slipped through the cracks in the Rift. A small blip she'd missed out in the readings. Nothing big. Besides, it wasn't as if this was something completely new to her! It was something to be expected. She'd been working for Torchwood for six/seven years? And Torchwood dealt with aliens, it was her job; she was trained to deal with these kind of things. So it was all nothing to worry about. Nothing new to her. It was going to be fine… But then, just why was her heart now threatening to break out of her ribcage with every beat?

The whole world still stilled and blurred around her, Toshiko mustered up her courage and turned around.

"H- Hello? Who-" But that was all she managed to say. All she could say before a rush of purple mist raced towards her at lightning speed and knocked all the air out of her lungs. She gasped, suddenly panting for breath. Suddenly, she had the completely insane theory that that purple mist had gone inside of her. Just as she was thinking this, time started again all around her and the whole room jerked to life: figures moving, figures running, figures shouting.

"Toshiko!" a familiar American accent boomed.

"What are you?!" Tosh whimpered to the giggling she could now hear inside her head. But no more words could leave lips as the darkness closed in and claimed fell to the floor.


"Owen, she's waking up!" Gwen yelled, calling down to the medic through the open door.

She returned her attention to Tosh, who was laid splayed across a small camp bed, which had been very conveniently set-up beforehand in Jack's office. Gwen observed the waking woman and put a hand to her forehead. Nope, definitely not a fever. Tosh'd just fainted, there and then, with no apparent cause whatsoever. Well, she had been muttering and saying something before she'd collapsed but- No. Gwen quickly shook her head, ridding herself of any other ideas. She wasn't about to worry herself - and everyone else - about this now. It was probably nothing anyway. The girl was probably just sleepy or something. See, this was all's Jack's fault for waking them all up at the crack of dawn!

Gwen drummed her fingers impatiently along her thigh, Two minutes gone and still no appearance from Doctor Owen Harper. That was it! She rose up from her perch on the camp-bed. Gwen's tolerance had snapped. She was never the patient person and that wasn't about to change now. Especially not with Owen. Not now, anyway. Their relationship - if you could even call it that - was over. She'd had enough of that, and her mind had been set on this when Rhys had proposed to her.

"OWEN!" she yelled, poking her head outside the door frame. "GET OFF YOUR LAZY BACKSIDE AND GET UP HERE!"

She had to face the facts, he wasn't going to come. She'd have to go find him herself. She bumped into Jack just as she stepped out the door.

"How is she?" he asked, nodding at Tosh.

"Waking up," Gwen replied. She changed the subject. "You haven't seen His Pain-In-The-Backside anywhere, have you?"

The mental translator in Jack's head read out "Owen", and he smirked. "You mean Owen?"

"Yes, I mean Owen."


Grumbling, she dodged past him and set off down the corridor.


"You haven't seen Owen, have you, Yan?"

"I believe he was chatting up Janet, the last time I saw him," Ianto informed.

The Cells. Gotcha now!

"And not doing a good job of it, I bet... Thanks!"

"Just doing my job."


"So. I'm King of the Weevils!" Owen bellowed at Janet, thumping a fist onto the glass encasing. The Weevil whimpered, perhaps in response. "Ever since I came back from the dead, I can sense and smell things that I couldn't before. And right now, there's one hell of a stench in there - and it's not coming from any of us. "

Still huddled in the far corner of its small cell, Janet lifted her head up at Owen a little and moaned profusely. Owen didn't pay any notice to this and pressed his face up against the smooth glass.

"You've been feeling it too, haven't you?" Owen said, the words spilling out of his mouth as more of a statement than a question. The Weevil just howled again, scrunching itself up. "In the air, there's that smell, there's something here. And it's not making you comfortable, is it? That's why you kept howling this morning. I'm not like Jack, I don't just ignore these things. Somehow, whatever you orange brutes can smell in the air, I can too." Owen smirked to himself. "King of the Weevils…"

Gwen poked her head round the door, smirking. "Girlfriend problems?"


He sat behind his desk, quietly drinking the coffee and observing Toshiko as she slept in her unconsciousness. She was definitely waking up, if her twitching and fidgeting every few seconds had anything to do with it. Jack just hoped that she was OK.

He smiled, hearing the slightly muted bickers of residents Gwen, Owen and Ianto go on downstairs.

Jack was glad he had an apt team to accompany him and work with; it put a grin on his face and he was proud of them (well, most of the time) – despite the occasional argument, dispute, fight and him ending up getting shot.

But every single time he created a new Torchwood team, it was destroyed, wrecked and pulled apart, then stomped on afterwards. Every single time. And there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He had to just stand back and let it happen - let members of his team die, let everything fall to pieces - while he lived on and walked away, just like nothing had happened. He'd rebuild, and everything would be wrecked again. And again. And again. And again. The never ending cycle. It was never going to stop... Never. And he was just that bit too selfish to stop trying to create a Torchwood team that would last. One day, one day he would though. But that day wasn't today.

He just wondered how close this young group were to the end of Torchwood. Gwen, Ianto, Owen, Tosh – he loved them all dearly (well, maybe not so much Owen) but how long would it be until they paid the price? How long would it be until their lives were ripped to pieces before their very own eyes? How long 'til the curse of Torchwood would affect them? How long before it would all end, and he was alone again? How long? Jack sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. It was something that wasn't to be dwelled on now. He'd have to learn to deal with it when the time came. When the time came… But he sensed that it wasn't very far away. He could feel it…

On opening his eyes back up, Captain Jack was met by a sudden chill in the air. Coldness swept in on all his exposed skin; he shivered. Well, that was odd. And Jack knew odd; he ate odd for his breakfast. The one reason why it happened to be odd was that he'd experienced the same thing just half an hour or so before. It was when he was tucked up inside his office, he'd just felt something. Maybe, it was connected? Or, maybe, he was just being silly and perhaps Toshiko was just suffering from a sleep deficiency?



Jack studied Toshiko carefully as Ianto handed her some pain-reliever pills and a polystyrene cup of water. She accepted them gratefully, popping the pills into her mouth and downing the entire contents of the cup in one gulp.

"What happened?" Gwen quizzed.

"I... don't know. I..."

Felt dizzy! Felt dizzy! That is all! Toshiko felt dizzy!

"I... felt... dizzy."

"And then you just fainted, like that?" Jack asked, stepping fowards, out of the shadows.


"Feel anything weird happen to you before? Anything strange happen? Anything at all?"

Toshiko say no! Say no! Say no!

"Y- No."

"And you're fine now, yes?"

There was a horrid, heavy pounding in the back of her skull, and she just didn't feel right... There was something else wrong with her, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. Toshiko's conscience screamed that she was certainly not OK and begged her to tell Jack, but another... voice in her head told her otherwise. And, after all, the voices in your head were always right, weren't they? Voices in your head were normal, she was sure.

Toshiko is suffering after-effects of mind-penetration. Tell man you are fine. TELL HIM! Toshiko. Is. Fine. Nothing wrong. If Toshiko feel something is wrong, Toshiko delusional. Nothing happened to Toshiko. Toshiko listen. Toshiko is good. Chichow will tell you what to do and what to say. Chichow will guide you. Toshiko no worry. Now… Toshiko, tell Immortal Man you are fine. Tell him. Tell him you were… tired. Tell him you were dizzy. Tell him Toshiko no want to go home.

But there was something wrong with her! She didn't want to tell Jack she was alright, because she wasn't!

Shhh. Toshiko listen to Chichow.

"Why wouldn't I be? Just a dizzy spell, I'm sure. Sleep deficiency, I'm guessing?" Tosh dismissed nonchalantly. "It's probably nothing serious."

"I'll be the judge of that, thank you, Tosh," Owen said, entering the room.

There was nothing wrong with her, Tosh told herself as Owen gave her the standard check over, stethoscope out and all. She must've just... imagined everything that had happened to her stopping, everything blurring, that strange voice, something going inside her - all her silly imagination. She was fine. Completely fine. One hundred percent... fine. No more, no less.

She couldn't help it; the voice was so tempting, so reassuring, so soft, so soothing, so… trustworthy. Nothing could go wrong if she listened to the voice. The voice would help her; the voice would guide her; the voice... was her friend.

A/N:- Not muchio action or horror or drama in this chapter, but there should be some more cropping up soon enough.

Reviews are loved muchily!!