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fandomweekly2025-04-19 02:13 pm
badly_knitted) wrote in fandomweekly2025-04-19 02:13 pm
Entry tags:
[#257] The Fix (Torchwood/Doctor Who)
Theme Prompt: #257 – Chemistry
Title: The Fix
Fandom: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Undead Owen Harper runs into a stranger who makes him an offer he has no intention of refusing.
Gwen’s wedding reception seemed to be going well, despite the earlier chaos, and Owen figured that meant no one would miss him for a bit. Seeing everyone enjoying themselves, eating, drinking, and dancing, was an unwelcome reminder of all the things he couldn’t do anymore; he might not need to breathe these days, but right now, he badly needed a breath of fresh air, so he slipped outside into the darkness, walking away from the party until he could barely hear the music and laughter anymore.
He was morosely plodding down a path when he almost walked smack into someone hurrying along in the opposite direction.
“Oops, sorry,” the other man said cheerfully.
“No worries.” Owen studied the other man, dressed in a blue pinstriped suit and red converse sneakers; he wasn’t one of the wedding guests. “The hotel’s fully booked for a wedding. You’d better not be a gatecrasher; we’ve had our fill of those already today.”
“Nope, not me.” The man bounced on his toes. “I’m the Doctor.”
“We don’t need another…” Owen stopped mid-sentence. “THE Doctor? Jack’s friend?”
“That’s me!” The Doctor beamed at Owen.
“You’re not taking Jack, not this time.” Owen drew himself up to his full height, which was still shorter than the Doctor. “He’s still getting over whatever it was you did to him last time.”
For a moment, the Doctor’s face clouded over, but then he was grinning again. “Oh, I’m not her for Captain Jack. My TARDIS detected an anomaly, seemed like something I should check out.”
“Yeah, that was probably the Nostrovite, but we already dealt with that.”
“Nostrovite? Ooh, nasty! But no, that’s not what I’m looking for.” A weird piece of tech suddenly seemed to appear in the man’s hand, and he waved it at Owen. “According to my sonic screwdriver, you are. What happened to you then? You’re dead, but you’re walking around.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“Seriously though. What happened?”
“Short version: Some bastard shot me through the heart, I died, Jack used a resurrection gauntlet on me, and now I’m a zombie. It sucks.”
“I imagine it would.” The Doctor studied Owen for a long moment. “No heartbeat, no circulation, no ability to heal…”
“Can’t eat, can’t drink, can’t sleep, can’t shag,” Owen continued for the Time Lord.
“Not much of an existence, is it?”
“You have no idea.”
“No, I don’t suppose I do.” The Doctor ran his sonic thingy over Owen again, looked at something on it, then beamed cheerfully. “Shouldn’t be too difficult to fix you.”
Owen stared at the man in confusion. “You what?”
“Fix you. Make you live again.”
If Owen’s heart had been able to beat, it would have been pounding at that, hope surging through him. “You can do that?”
“Oh, no, not me. I know some people though. Well, I say people, but they’re more like sentient anteaters. Lovely people though, very clever. Come along.”
Everything that came after that was a bit blurred as Owen was dragged into a blue box and the next thing he knew, he was in some sort of lab, naked, surrounded by giant anteaters in pink smocks, who were prodding and poking at him.
“Interesting, not our usual, but fixable, yes, I believe so,” one of the anteaters said, thrusting an instrument into the bullethole in Owen’s chest, drawing out a wadge of dead blood, and dropping it in a beaker. The alien scientist added chemicals from various vials, and started heating the mixture. Owen watched in fascination as the liquid bubbled and frothed, developing a rather disgusting greyish-yellow shade.
“Should it be turning that colour?”
“Yes, yes…” The scientist took a closer look at the beaker. “Well, no, I’ve never worked on a human before. Your biochemistry is a bit different; I’ll have to make a few tweaks to the mixture to compensate, but don’t worry, we’ll get there. I’ve never failed a client yet. Usually we work with your basic undead, vampires, zombies, the odd mummy. You’re zombie-ish, but not a real one.” The alien patted Owen reassuringly with a large, furry paw, not that Owen could feel anything, then turned away to consult the Doctor. “What can you tell me about human anatomy and biochemistry?”
“Oi!” Owen interrupted. “Don’t ask him, ask me! I’m human, and an actual medical doctor. What I don’t know about how the human body works isn’t worth knowing.”
“You are?” the anteater sounded delighted. “Wonderful! I have so many questions! Tell me everything!”
“Where d’you want me to start?”
It took just over six weeks, the first month of which was spent educating Professor Kisslid and his entire resurrection team, fifteen of the anteaters, or Choonen as their species was called. Owen sent the Doctor to his flat to fetch his medical textbooks, and with their help, the Choonen scientists were soon experts on human physiology, anatomy, biochemistry, biology, pathology, everything that might prove useful in their efforts to restore him to life.
The last two weeks, Owen had surgery to repair the damage done by the bullet that had killed him. Kisslid said it would be easier on him if it was done while he was still dead. Less uncomfortable, and they wouldn’t have to fiddle with his heart while it was trying to beat.
“Far better if we only have to resurrect you once.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
Once the repairs were completed, a fresh batch of what Kisslid termed the Revivification Elixir was brewed. This time, it turned a much more appealing yellow, without the greyish overtones, and when the final ingredient was added, it glowed like sunlight.
After that, the elixir was administered intravenously. As it spread through Owen’s veins, he could feel his body coming back to life. His heart started beating, he drew a ragged breath, murky tears poured from his eyes as his tear ducts cleansed themselves. There were other less pleasant side-effects, but Owen didn’t care; he was alive.
Doctor Owen Harper, no longer deceased.
The End.
He was morosely plodding down a path when he almost walked smack into someone hurrying along in the opposite direction.
“Oops, sorry,” the other man said cheerfully.
“No worries.” Owen studied the other man, dressed in a blue pinstriped suit and red converse sneakers; he wasn’t one of the wedding guests. “The hotel’s fully booked for a wedding. You’d better not be a gatecrasher; we’ve had our fill of those already today.”
“Nope, not me.” The man bounced on his toes. “I’m the Doctor.”
“We don’t need another…” Owen stopped mid-sentence. “THE Doctor? Jack’s friend?”
“That’s me!” The Doctor beamed at Owen.
“You’re not taking Jack, not this time.” Owen drew himself up to his full height, which was still shorter than the Doctor. “He’s still getting over whatever it was you did to him last time.”
For a moment, the Doctor’s face clouded over, but then he was grinning again. “Oh, I’m not her for Captain Jack. My TARDIS detected an anomaly, seemed like something I should check out.”
“Yeah, that was probably the Nostrovite, but we already dealt with that.”
“Nostrovite? Ooh, nasty! But no, that’s not what I’m looking for.” A weird piece of tech suddenly seemed to appear in the man’s hand, and he waved it at Owen. “According to my sonic screwdriver, you are. What happened to you then? You’re dead, but you’re walking around.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
“Seriously though. What happened?”
“Short version: Some bastard shot me through the heart, I died, Jack used a resurrection gauntlet on me, and now I’m a zombie. It sucks.”
“I imagine it would.” The Doctor studied Owen for a long moment. “No heartbeat, no circulation, no ability to heal…”
“Can’t eat, can’t drink, can’t sleep, can’t shag,” Owen continued for the Time Lord.
“Not much of an existence, is it?”
“You have no idea.”
“No, I don’t suppose I do.” The Doctor ran his sonic thingy over Owen again, looked at something on it, then beamed cheerfully. “Shouldn’t be too difficult to fix you.”
Owen stared at the man in confusion. “You what?”
“Fix you. Make you live again.”
If Owen’s heart had been able to beat, it would have been pounding at that, hope surging through him. “You can do that?”
“Oh, no, not me. I know some people though. Well, I say people, but they’re more like sentient anteaters. Lovely people though, very clever. Come along.”
Everything that came after that was a bit blurred as Owen was dragged into a blue box and the next thing he knew, he was in some sort of lab, naked, surrounded by giant anteaters in pink smocks, who were prodding and poking at him.
“Interesting, not our usual, but fixable, yes, I believe so,” one of the anteaters said, thrusting an instrument into the bullethole in Owen’s chest, drawing out a wadge of dead blood, and dropping it in a beaker. The alien scientist added chemicals from various vials, and started heating the mixture. Owen watched in fascination as the liquid bubbled and frothed, developing a rather disgusting greyish-yellow shade.
“Should it be turning that colour?”
“Yes, yes…” The scientist took a closer look at the beaker. “Well, no, I’ve never worked on a human before. Your biochemistry is a bit different; I’ll have to make a few tweaks to the mixture to compensate, but don’t worry, we’ll get there. I’ve never failed a client yet. Usually we work with your basic undead, vampires, zombies, the odd mummy. You’re zombie-ish, but not a real one.” The alien patted Owen reassuringly with a large, furry paw, not that Owen could feel anything, then turned away to consult the Doctor. “What can you tell me about human anatomy and biochemistry?”
“Oi!” Owen interrupted. “Don’t ask him, ask me! I’m human, and an actual medical doctor. What I don’t know about how the human body works isn’t worth knowing.”
“You are?” the anteater sounded delighted. “Wonderful! I have so many questions! Tell me everything!”
“Where d’you want me to start?”
It took just over six weeks, the first month of which was spent educating Professor Kisslid and his entire resurrection team, fifteen of the anteaters, or Choonen as their species was called. Owen sent the Doctor to his flat to fetch his medical textbooks, and with their help, the Choonen scientists were soon experts on human physiology, anatomy, biochemistry, biology, pathology, everything that might prove useful in their efforts to restore him to life.
The last two weeks, Owen had surgery to repair the damage done by the bullet that had killed him. Kisslid said it would be easier on him if it was done while he was still dead. Less uncomfortable, and they wouldn’t have to fiddle with his heart while it was trying to beat.
“Far better if we only have to resurrect you once.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
Once the repairs were completed, a fresh batch of what Kisslid termed the Revivification Elixir was brewed. This time, it turned a much more appealing yellow, without the greyish overtones, and when the final ingredient was added, it glowed like sunlight.
After that, the elixir was administered intravenously. As it spread through Owen’s veins, he could feel his body coming back to life. His heart started beating, he drew a ragged breath, murky tears poured from his eyes as his tear ducts cleansed themselves. There were other less pleasant side-effects, but Owen didn’t care; he was alive.
Doctor Owen Harper, no longer deceased.
The End.
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