Fic: Lives Are For Living. (9/35)
Sep. 1st, 2013 11:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silver_sunTitle Lives Are For Living. (9/35)
Fandoms Torchwood/Being Human crossover fic.
Characters/pairings Andy Davidson/Tom McNair. Other Torchwood and Being Human characters will appear later on.
Word count: This part 2250. (Total posted 17,100 /65,000)
Rating This part PG13 (adult over all)
Contains Mentions of depression/anxiety. Mentions of past canon character death. Canon level violence, graphic sex, Andy's homophobic mother. Spoilers for Being Human (UK version) up to series 5 episode 3, and for Torchwood up to Children of Earth.
A/N: Crossover with Being Human. Technically a CoE fix it as it's set in the same 'verse as Finding Ways To Smile Again (although that isn't apparent until about 2/3 the way through the story). Follows on from Break and Breakaway from Tom McNair's POV – which is where it breaks from Being Human canon.
Summary
After being pushed out of the police force following the events of Children of Earth, Andy Davidson tries to build a new life for himself in the deep in the Welsh countryside.
Tom McNair walked out off his old life after realising it wasn't what he needed.
A chance meeting would take their lives in directions that they had never expected and bring them love that they'd not thought they'd find.
Starts here: http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/214504.html
Andy had to admit, as they left the only shop willing to take a chance on them, that the trip into Rhayader to sell Tom's carvings hadn't been quite as successful as he had hoped it would be. Ten pounds for three was hardly a good price given the amount of work that Tom must have put in on them, but the shopkeeper had said that if they sold well he'd be willing to buy some more.
Tom had seemed happy with it, and Andy supposed that was all that mattered, although he hoped that if the carvings did prove to be a success that the shopkeeper would be willing to pay a little more for them in future.
With the new parts for the generator collected and securely locked in the back on the landrover, Andy turned his attention to getting the shopping done. It would have to be mostly dried and canned goods again, Andy thought as he wished he'd remembered to make a shopping list, as although he hoped that the new parts would mean that the generator would be reliable enough to run a fridge, he wasn't going to risk buying one until he was sure.
“I've bin thinking,” Tom said suddenly, stopping without warning as he did so that Andy walked into the back of him. “I wondered if you wanted to go out.”
Andy blinked, not sure he'd heard Tom right, and even if he had whether Tom actually meant it like that. “Out?” he repeated, hoping he didn't look or sound too idiotic.
“Yeah. I know you're kind of like my boss I 'spose, what with the farm and that, but I thought we could be like mates or something and go to the cinema or the pub.” Tom stopped and scuffed his shoe along the pavement, looking suddenly uncertain of himself. “It were only an idea. I mean if you don't want to you don't have to, I just thought....”
“Alright then,” Andy said quickly, not wanting Tom to think that he didn't want t spend time with him. It was still hard not to sound disappointed though. “Cinema it is.”
There hadn't been much on at the cinema in the end, the choice limited to the latest Bond film and romantic comedy, but two over priced tickets, two even more overpriced tubs of popcorn and one rather better than he'd expected it to be Bond film later, Andy had to admit it was shaping up to be a very good evening. Leaving the cinema, he gave a quick glance at Tom who was walking along beside him, still eating popcorn and talking enthusiastically about the film. Tom wasn't the sort of guy he'd have given a second glance at in a club, too young, too scruffy, too short. It made him wonder if he'd missed out on talking to or more with some really great guys.
“So what do you wanna do now?” Tom said between mouthfuls. “D'ya want to get somethin' proper to eat?”
It really was starting to feel like the most date like non-date that he'd been on, and Andy smiled as he replied, “Alright, what sort of thing were you thinking?”
“I don't mind, nothin' too fancy though.”
Andy doubted there was anything that would really qualify as fancy in Rhayader, but he understood what Tom meant. Even dressed in what was most likely he least shabby set of clothes Tom still looked scruffy. The coat was the worst of it, an ancient waxed jacket that had probably once, about twenty years ago, been very nice, now it was definitely past its best. Andy thought for a moment before replying, “There's a place a couple of streets over that seems to mostly cater for hikers, they probably won't mind us.”
His mouth full of popcorn again, Tom gave him a thumbs up rather than an actual reply.
Rhayader was, if possible, even quieter in the evening than during the day so the shouting match that was going on in front the pub a little way up the road ahead of them was rather noticeable.
Two women in their late teens or early twenties and three lads of about the same age where standing outside the door engaged in what politely would have been called an verbal altercation on a report form were he still in the police, but was actually a screaming argument where every other word seemed to be a profanity.
It didn't appear to be the progress of kicking off into anything worse than hurt feelings for all involved in it, so Andy decided crossing the road to avoid having to squeeze past them on the narrow pavement was the best plan.
They'd just crossed the road when Tom held out his nearly empty popcorn box to him. “Could you hold this a minute?”
“Sure,” Andy replied, assuming Tom needed to retie the laces on his trainers. Tom however crossed back over the road and and walked quickly over to the arguing youths before Andy had a chance to ask him what he was doing.
“You shouldn't talk to a lady like that,” Tom said walking up to the largest and loudest of the men and tapping him on the shoulder. “And swearing like that ain't half as clever or hard as you think it is. It just makes you look stupid.”
“Piss off,” he slurred, turning to face Tom as he did. “What's it matter you how I talk to her, she a lying, cheating bi-”
“I said you shouldn't talk them like that, it's not nice,” Tom interrupted as he moved between the man and the two women, who were staring at him in confusion.
“An' I said I do what I fucking well like.” He looked at his two friends, before swinging his fist at Tom. “Come on, lets teach this little wanker a lesson.”
Tom ducked the punch easily, then dropping into a crouch kicked one leg out and tripped one of them, before landing a solid punch to the stomach on the guy who'd tried to hit him.
It wasn't just luck, Andy could see that. There was a well practised ease that showed Tom knew exactly what he was doing. He was just as much in his element here as he was in the woods, and Andy couldn't help but wonder just what sort of life Tom had been used to living where he was so familiar with fighting that nearly being punched in the face by a complete stranger didn't even give him pause.
The third guy, the smallest of the three, seeing his chance while Tom was distracted with the other two, smacked him across the face, twice hard and in quick succession. The women gave each other a worried look and ducked back inside the pub, where some of the locals were now starting to stare out of the window at the disturbance outside.
“Hey, leave him alone!” Andy called out, dropping the box of popcorn and dashing back across the road, as Tom, who'd barely flinched at either of the blows, retaliated by kneeing the guy who'd punched him in the crotch. Seeing Andy about to join him and their advantage in numbers diminishing, they stepped back, pulling their now red faced and uncomfortable friend with them.
“You had enough?” Tom said, wiping blood from his cut lip with his hand. “'Cause you might think you're clever knowin' all them rude words, but you're right rubbish at fightin'”
The door to the pub opened and a man who Andy suspected what the owner, leant out and yelled,
“You clear off the bloody lot of you or all call the police, you see if I don't!”
“This place is a shit hole anyway,” the guy Tom had tripped up spat back at the landlord, before making an obscene gesture at them. “Come on we can find somewhere better than this.”
“Do you reckon I should go in and see if they're alright?” Tom said looking at the pub, trying to see to see if the young women were still inside, now that they were alone.
“No,” Andy said, putting a hand on Tom's shoulder, feeling rather guilty at the fact that it was more for his own benefit than Tom's. It felt like the whole evening had been ruined, even though Tom didn't seem to be upset at all. He'd broken up fights far worse than this back when he'd been in uniform and thought nothing of it, now he just felt cold and sick and shivery.“I think we should go. They can always get a taxi home or phone for their parents if to they don't want to walk.”
“Yer probably right,” Tom said, not sounding totally convinced. He looked at Andy, then said, “Are you okay? They didn't hit you or owt did they?”
“No. Why?” Andy replied distracted by the rapidly darkening bruise on Tom's cheek. The fear that it could have been worse filling his mind far more than the relief the relief that it it hadn't been.
“It's just your hand is shaking right bad.” He reached up and put his own on it. “I thought you said you used to be police? That can't have bin worse than the sort of stuff they have to deal with.”
“There's a reason why I left,” Andy said, pulling his hand away, knowing he wasn't in any state to talk about any part of what happened rationally right now. The months of talking behind his back and snide comments that he was meant to hear from colleagues who he'd believed were his friends following what had happened on the Cromwell Estate had destroyed so much of his confidence, that combined with everything else, he still wasn't sure how he'd managed to avoid having a complete breakdown under the pressure. Perhaps if he'd not been thrown on the scrap heap he would have.
Tom looked like he was about to say something and then stopped like he'd thought better of it. He poked at the cut on his cheek, and then said, “I don't 'spose you still wanna go to the pub, do you?”
Andy shook his head. Right now he wanted nothing more than to get back to the farm, lock the door behind him and pretend the world outside didn't exist. He looked at Tom's barely disguised disappointment and realised that maybe it wasn't the whole world he wanted to shut out. Tom who seemed to care about him, who wanted to be his friend, would be welcome company. “How about we get some beer and a takeaway and have it back at the farm?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Tom smiled, happy again. “Do you wanna get pizza?”
To Andy's relief the takeaway pizza place had been quiet and the person behind the counter had carefully avoid making any mention of the fact Tom had obviously been in a very recent fight. While at the off license Tom had decided to wait outside, saying that he didn't fancy getting asked for ID as he didn't have any.
Still holding the pizza boxes, Tom sat on the low wall at the edge of the car park underneath a streetlight as Andy unlocked the landrover and put in the bag from the off license in the back.
Turning back to him, Andy could see that a bruise was already starting to form on Tom's cheek. The cut was small though, just a couple of centimetres break in the skin. He doubted it would leave much of a mark once it healed. Without thinking he reached out to touch it, wanting to reassure himself that he was right, that it was nothing.
“It's alright,” Tom said taking hold of his hand and gently, but firmly lowering it. “I've had worse.”
“The scars?” Andy asked carefully, uncertain if he should really mention them, even though Tom had seemed completely at ease with him seeing them a few days earlier.
“No, well yeah, but I weren't meaning them.” Tom stood up, releasing Andy's hand as he did, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Look I've been in enough fights to know how to handle myself, okay. So you shouldn't worry about me.”
Too late for that, Andy thought, as he watched him climb into the landrover. Far, far too late.
Driving up the narrow, rutted track to the farm was bad enough in the daylight, in the dark and with the ancient landrover's less than bright headlight, it did little help calm Andy's nerves and he was relieved to park it up outside the farmhouse without having scraped it along a wall or tipped it into a ditch.
A couple of hours later, with the beer drunk and the pizza eaten, the cold, hard knot in his chest seemed to have finally eased, Tom's warm, reassuring presence at his side finally helping him relax.
Tom who was funny, kind, brave, modest and, Andy thought sadly, apparently not interested in him as anything other than a friend. And, he noticed with a smile, who'd asleep against his shoulder and was snoring quietly, his can of beer still held loosely in one hand.
There was no sense in waking him, and after the fight this evening Andy knew he'd sleep better knowing that Tom was safe, so after putting a blanket over him, he turned out the light and went to bed.
TBC Wednesday 4/9
Fandoms Torchwood/Being Human crossover fic.
Characters/pairings Andy Davidson/Tom McNair. Other Torchwood and Being Human characters will appear later on.
Word count: This part 2250. (Total posted 17,100 /65,000)
Rating This part PG13 (adult over all)
Contains Mentions of depression/anxiety. Mentions of past canon character death. Canon level violence, graphic sex, Andy's homophobic mother. Spoilers for Being Human (UK version) up to series 5 episode 3, and for Torchwood up to Children of Earth.
A/N: Crossover with Being Human. Technically a CoE fix it as it's set in the same 'verse as Finding Ways To Smile Again (although that isn't apparent until about 2/3 the way through the story). Follows on from Break and Breakaway from Tom McNair's POV – which is where it breaks from Being Human canon.
Summary
After being pushed out of the police force following the events of Children of Earth, Andy Davidson tries to build a new life for himself in the deep in the Welsh countryside.
Tom McNair walked out off his old life after realising it wasn't what he needed.
A chance meeting would take their lives in directions that they had never expected and bring them love that they'd not thought they'd find.
Starts here: http://the-silver-sun.livejournal.com/214504.html
Andy had to admit, as they left the only shop willing to take a chance on them, that the trip into Rhayader to sell Tom's carvings hadn't been quite as successful as he had hoped it would be. Ten pounds for three was hardly a good price given the amount of work that Tom must have put in on them, but the shopkeeper had said that if they sold well he'd be willing to buy some more.
Tom had seemed happy with it, and Andy supposed that was all that mattered, although he hoped that if the carvings did prove to be a success that the shopkeeper would be willing to pay a little more for them in future.
With the new parts for the generator collected and securely locked in the back on the landrover, Andy turned his attention to getting the shopping done. It would have to be mostly dried and canned goods again, Andy thought as he wished he'd remembered to make a shopping list, as although he hoped that the new parts would mean that the generator would be reliable enough to run a fridge, he wasn't going to risk buying one until he was sure.
“I've bin thinking,” Tom said suddenly, stopping without warning as he did so that Andy walked into the back of him. “I wondered if you wanted to go out.”
Andy blinked, not sure he'd heard Tom right, and even if he had whether Tom actually meant it like that. “Out?” he repeated, hoping he didn't look or sound too idiotic.
“Yeah. I know you're kind of like my boss I 'spose, what with the farm and that, but I thought we could be like mates or something and go to the cinema or the pub.” Tom stopped and scuffed his shoe along the pavement, looking suddenly uncertain of himself. “It were only an idea. I mean if you don't want to you don't have to, I just thought....”
“Alright then,” Andy said quickly, not wanting Tom to think that he didn't want t spend time with him. It was still hard not to sound disappointed though. “Cinema it is.”
There hadn't been much on at the cinema in the end, the choice limited to the latest Bond film and romantic comedy, but two over priced tickets, two even more overpriced tubs of popcorn and one rather better than he'd expected it to be Bond film later, Andy had to admit it was shaping up to be a very good evening. Leaving the cinema, he gave a quick glance at Tom who was walking along beside him, still eating popcorn and talking enthusiastically about the film. Tom wasn't the sort of guy he'd have given a second glance at in a club, too young, too scruffy, too short. It made him wonder if he'd missed out on talking to or more with some really great guys.
“So what do you wanna do now?” Tom said between mouthfuls. “D'ya want to get somethin' proper to eat?”
It really was starting to feel like the most date like non-date that he'd been on, and Andy smiled as he replied, “Alright, what sort of thing were you thinking?”
“I don't mind, nothin' too fancy though.”
Andy doubted there was anything that would really qualify as fancy in Rhayader, but he understood what Tom meant. Even dressed in what was most likely he least shabby set of clothes Tom still looked scruffy. The coat was the worst of it, an ancient waxed jacket that had probably once, about twenty years ago, been very nice, now it was definitely past its best. Andy thought for a moment before replying, “There's a place a couple of streets over that seems to mostly cater for hikers, they probably won't mind us.”
His mouth full of popcorn again, Tom gave him a thumbs up rather than an actual reply.
Rhayader was, if possible, even quieter in the evening than during the day so the shouting match that was going on in front the pub a little way up the road ahead of them was rather noticeable.
Two women in their late teens or early twenties and three lads of about the same age where standing outside the door engaged in what politely would have been called an verbal altercation on a report form were he still in the police, but was actually a screaming argument where every other word seemed to be a profanity.
It didn't appear to be the progress of kicking off into anything worse than hurt feelings for all involved in it, so Andy decided crossing the road to avoid having to squeeze past them on the narrow pavement was the best plan.
They'd just crossed the road when Tom held out his nearly empty popcorn box to him. “Could you hold this a minute?”
“Sure,” Andy replied, assuming Tom needed to retie the laces on his trainers. Tom however crossed back over the road and and walked quickly over to the arguing youths before Andy had a chance to ask him what he was doing.
“You shouldn't talk to a lady like that,” Tom said walking up to the largest and loudest of the men and tapping him on the shoulder. “And swearing like that ain't half as clever or hard as you think it is. It just makes you look stupid.”
“Piss off,” he slurred, turning to face Tom as he did. “What's it matter you how I talk to her, she a lying, cheating bi-”
“I said you shouldn't talk them like that, it's not nice,” Tom interrupted as he moved between the man and the two women, who were staring at him in confusion.
“An' I said I do what I fucking well like.” He looked at his two friends, before swinging his fist at Tom. “Come on, lets teach this little wanker a lesson.”
Tom ducked the punch easily, then dropping into a crouch kicked one leg out and tripped one of them, before landing a solid punch to the stomach on the guy who'd tried to hit him.
It wasn't just luck, Andy could see that. There was a well practised ease that showed Tom knew exactly what he was doing. He was just as much in his element here as he was in the woods, and Andy couldn't help but wonder just what sort of life Tom had been used to living where he was so familiar with fighting that nearly being punched in the face by a complete stranger didn't even give him pause.
The third guy, the smallest of the three, seeing his chance while Tom was distracted with the other two, smacked him across the face, twice hard and in quick succession. The women gave each other a worried look and ducked back inside the pub, where some of the locals were now starting to stare out of the window at the disturbance outside.
“Hey, leave him alone!” Andy called out, dropping the box of popcorn and dashing back across the road, as Tom, who'd barely flinched at either of the blows, retaliated by kneeing the guy who'd punched him in the crotch. Seeing Andy about to join him and their advantage in numbers diminishing, they stepped back, pulling their now red faced and uncomfortable friend with them.
“You had enough?” Tom said, wiping blood from his cut lip with his hand. “'Cause you might think you're clever knowin' all them rude words, but you're right rubbish at fightin'”
The door to the pub opened and a man who Andy suspected what the owner, leant out and yelled,
“You clear off the bloody lot of you or all call the police, you see if I don't!”
“This place is a shit hole anyway,” the guy Tom had tripped up spat back at the landlord, before making an obscene gesture at them. “Come on we can find somewhere better than this.”
“Do you reckon I should go in and see if they're alright?” Tom said looking at the pub, trying to see to see if the young women were still inside, now that they were alone.
“No,” Andy said, putting a hand on Tom's shoulder, feeling rather guilty at the fact that it was more for his own benefit than Tom's. It felt like the whole evening had been ruined, even though Tom didn't seem to be upset at all. He'd broken up fights far worse than this back when he'd been in uniform and thought nothing of it, now he just felt cold and sick and shivery.“I think we should go. They can always get a taxi home or phone for their parents if to they don't want to walk.”
“Yer probably right,” Tom said, not sounding totally convinced. He looked at Andy, then said, “Are you okay? They didn't hit you or owt did they?”
“No. Why?” Andy replied distracted by the rapidly darkening bruise on Tom's cheek. The fear that it could have been worse filling his mind far more than the relief the relief that it it hadn't been.
“It's just your hand is shaking right bad.” He reached up and put his own on it. “I thought you said you used to be police? That can't have bin worse than the sort of stuff they have to deal with.”
“There's a reason why I left,” Andy said, pulling his hand away, knowing he wasn't in any state to talk about any part of what happened rationally right now. The months of talking behind his back and snide comments that he was meant to hear from colleagues who he'd believed were his friends following what had happened on the Cromwell Estate had destroyed so much of his confidence, that combined with everything else, he still wasn't sure how he'd managed to avoid having a complete breakdown under the pressure. Perhaps if he'd not been thrown on the scrap heap he would have.
Tom looked like he was about to say something and then stopped like he'd thought better of it. He poked at the cut on his cheek, and then said, “I don't 'spose you still wanna go to the pub, do you?”
Andy shook his head. Right now he wanted nothing more than to get back to the farm, lock the door behind him and pretend the world outside didn't exist. He looked at Tom's barely disguised disappointment and realised that maybe it wasn't the whole world he wanted to shut out. Tom who seemed to care about him, who wanted to be his friend, would be welcome company. “How about we get some beer and a takeaway and have it back at the farm?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Tom smiled, happy again. “Do you wanna get pizza?”
To Andy's relief the takeaway pizza place had been quiet and the person behind the counter had carefully avoid making any mention of the fact Tom had obviously been in a very recent fight. While at the off license Tom had decided to wait outside, saying that he didn't fancy getting asked for ID as he didn't have any.
Still holding the pizza boxes, Tom sat on the low wall at the edge of the car park underneath a streetlight as Andy unlocked the landrover and put in the bag from the off license in the back.
Turning back to him, Andy could see that a bruise was already starting to form on Tom's cheek. The cut was small though, just a couple of centimetres break in the skin. He doubted it would leave much of a mark once it healed. Without thinking he reached out to touch it, wanting to reassure himself that he was right, that it was nothing.
“It's alright,” Tom said taking hold of his hand and gently, but firmly lowering it. “I've had worse.”
“The scars?” Andy asked carefully, uncertain if he should really mention them, even though Tom had seemed completely at ease with him seeing them a few days earlier.
“No, well yeah, but I weren't meaning them.” Tom stood up, releasing Andy's hand as he did, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Look I've been in enough fights to know how to handle myself, okay. So you shouldn't worry about me.”
Too late for that, Andy thought, as he watched him climb into the landrover. Far, far too late.
Driving up the narrow, rutted track to the farm was bad enough in the daylight, in the dark and with the ancient landrover's less than bright headlight, it did little help calm Andy's nerves and he was relieved to park it up outside the farmhouse without having scraped it along a wall or tipped it into a ditch.
A couple of hours later, with the beer drunk and the pizza eaten, the cold, hard knot in his chest seemed to have finally eased, Tom's warm, reassuring presence at his side finally helping him relax.
Tom who was funny, kind, brave, modest and, Andy thought sadly, apparently not interested in him as anything other than a friend. And, he noticed with a smile, who'd asleep against his shoulder and was snoring quietly, his can of beer still held loosely in one hand.
There was no sense in waking him, and after the fight this evening Andy knew he'd sleep better knowing that Tom was safe, so after putting a blanket over him, he turned out the light and went to bed.
TBC Wednesday 4/9
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Date: 2013-09-02 06:51 am (UTC)