Being entirely unable to sleep, I wrote a fill for Hold Me: A Comfort Fest: "The Dead, the Wide-Eyed and the Legless." Too much of the rest of this post was Tiny Wittgenstein, on account of being awake round the clock, and has been edited accordingly. I write fic on an average of once every year and change and had not written for Torchwood before. Either it takes place late in season two or I am ignoring the existence of the second-season finale; Owen is undead and Tosh is having a rough time in the aftermath of something I had to keep from turning into casefic. I can't believe "Mycology" is not an official tag on AO3.
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- 1: Now there's always someone else in the back of your mind
- 2: Ma twll yn y pridd yn Alltwalis lle taflaf fy mhryderon
- 3: When we take on new bodies, I will scour the earth to find you again
- 4: There's more room on the basement couch
- 5: A kidnapper wouldn't jump into a cold sea
- 6: A stranger light comes on slowly
- 7: I might fail math if you don't move your shoulder
- 8: One boundary makes another
- 9: I swear only this city knows
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