Fandom: Torchwood/Tokio Hotel RPS
Pairing: Bill/Tom, Jack/Ianto, Bill/Tom/Jack/Ianto
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, the real people in it are used without their permission and I definitely don't own them or have any copyright to any part of any of them. I do not believe any of this happened, is likely to happen or should happen it is simply a story created around known facts about those involved.Torchwood characters and situations were created and are owned by RusselT. Davis and the BBC. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: twincest, alien sex
Summary: Promoting the band means travelling all over the UK and Tokio Hotel have ended up in Cardiff for a TV interview and some signings. Thanks to the effects of a rogue alien device they run into Torchwood.
Author's Notes: This fic comes from my seemingly deep psychological need to do all sorts of bizarre things to Bill, and sometimes to Tom too. It has warring aliens, cocoons, torture and sexy boy love, I do hope you enjoy reading it :). Thanks to Soph for the beta.
Link: Chapter Listing
Chapter 2 Torchwood
There was something all over his face and it was in his mouth and nose as well and all Bill knew was he needed to get rid of it. He wiped at his face, but his hands seemed equally as covered and all he could do was cough and splutter without getting very far.
"Hey there," a soft female voice said in English with what Bill thought was a Welsh accent, "it's okay, I'll help you."
He was glad the language was short and to the point, because he was in no state to translate anything complicated. He barely understood what she was saying as it was, but, the fact that a warm wet cloth was used to wipe his face, helped a lot with the explanation. Blinking as well as he could, he tried to open his eyes, but one eye seemed to be glued shut and the other showed him no more than blurred shapes. It was kind of frightening and if the gentle female hands hadn't been there he might have panicked.
"Your Da will be here in a moment," he kind of understood what she was saying, "just relax."
He wondered if he'd ended up in hospital and if so why. He didn't remember much about the evening after they had returned to the hotel and what he did remember wasn't pleasant. Whatever had taken him out hadn't been nice. The warm cloth was dabbed carefully over his fused eye, for which he was grateful, especially when it opened, even if he still couldn't see much. His companion said something else to him, but he really didn't understand it; his brain was in no shape for English with a heavy accent.
"Bill," he heard his father's voice and tried to look around, but all he could see were blobs.
"Dad?" he didn't know why his father would have been there. "Dad, I can't see."
As soon as he felt a hand touch him, he reached out and clung to it.
"It's okay, Bill," his father told him, "it's perfectly normal. Just give it a while; you need to adjust."
He was beginning to feel cold, but it was only when someone put a blanket over him that he realised he hadn't been covered before. When his dad dragged him into an embrace he couldn't have been more glad, he was so confused. Not being able to see was more frightening than he cared to admit, but it did seem to be a little better than when he had first woken up.
"What's wrong with me?" he asked, needing something to hold on to. "Why am I covered in goo?"
The blanket was warmer, but it wasn't exactly pleasant as it made him realise he seemed to be coated in the sticky substance just about all over.
"It's complicated," his father told him, helping him sit up properly, "and I think we should get you clean first before this starts to go hard again. I'll explain everything once you're more comfortable."
Bill really wanted to know what was going on there and then, but the goo really did feel quite disgusting so he didn't object as his father helped him to swing his legs off the side of whatever bed he was on. It felt much harder than he expected a hospital bed to be, but he didn't have much to compare it to, so he just accepted it. When he stood up, his legs almost gave way, which was rather worrying.
"Don't try to do anything too fast," his father told him, helping him to stand properly, "just take it slowly. Everything will come back if you give it time."
"Can I just get clean please?" Bill let himself focus on just that one thing, because there were too many things going on in his head.
"Of course, Bill," his father said, sounding very sympathetic, "I know this must be confusing. I'm going to have to help you, hope that's not too embarrassing for a grown up son."
His father was trying to lighten the mood, but all it did was remind him who he'd have felt much more comfortable being helped by.
"Where's Tom?" he asked, realising that he hadn't heard anything of his twin since he had woken up.
"He's in the bed next to yours," his father told him and Bill immediately tried to look, without much luck. "Its okay, Bill, he'll be fine, just like you. He's asleep and unlike you he's not covered in goo."
That kind of confused Bill a little, so much so that he went when his father urged him on.
"Why?" he asked, not really understanding anything.
At least the world around him seemed to be becoming a little clearer; smaller blobs that seemed to be more like people and objects than just big blobs of colour.
"That's part of the explanation I'll give you later," his father promised, and helped him walk across the room.
The nice woman who had helped him when he woke up said something to his dad, but it was in English with the peculiar accent and too fast for him to follow.
"Thanks, Gwen," he did understand, however and then his father swapped back to German. "Gwen is going to get us some towels and a robe for you once you're clean."
"Who's Gwen?" he asked the first thing that came into his head.
"A friend," his father told him, "I think."
That was a little worrying, but Bill didn't feel like dealing with it right about then. He just accepted what his dad said and shuffled when his father urged him to go. Climbing into the shower was not fun, because there was a step and he stubbed his toe once before he got it right, but the moment hot water hit him he was in heaven. He did, however, feel rather silly knowing his dad was hovering close, but at least he was alone in the cubicle.
"The shampoo is in front of you on the right," his father said seemingly understanding, "the shower gel is on the left. Yell if you need help, I'll be just out here."
"Thanks, Dad," he said, appreciating the gesture, but feeling less stupid when he heard the door close.
He hated his hair being a mess so he reached for the shampoo first. Not being able to see made it difficult, but he found that if he closed his eyes and didn't try to see, his sense of touch worked much better. Rinsing off as much of the goo as possible and then lathering in the shampoo made him feel much better, but he had to repeat it several times before his hair began to feel normal. It made him kind of glad that Tom was not in the same predicament, because getting the stuff out of Tom's dreadlocks would have been a nightmare.
Once he had finished his hair, he started on his body and the goo was quite difficult to get off in places. He had to scrub at his arms and cleaning the soles of his feet was quite a challenge. However, it was as he was cleaning more intimate areas that things became a little stranger. It was as he was trying to get the goo out of the hair around his balls (the goo really seemed to be attracted to hair) that he found a little lump. A little lump that when he touched it sent shots of arousal through his body with such strength that he moaned out loud before he could stop himself. He touched it again more out of instinct than anything else and he couldn't help moaning again and that was the point his legs gave out.
He found himself sitting in the corner of the shower cubicle, feeling dazed and rather stupid and he couldn't really work out why.
"Bill," he saw the blob that was his father open the cubicle door, "are you okay? What happened?"
"Not sure," he said honestly as his father helped him up.
His dad had to have been getting drenched, but didn't seem to care. It was beginning to occur to him that lumps in strange places were not a good thing no matter how good they felt.
"Dad," he decided that he was more in need of help than not being embarrassed, "I found a lump."
"Oh," his father said in a tone that he hadn't really been expecting; "that explains the moaning."
Bill felt his face heating up; he had the distinct impression that he was missing something.
"Don’t worry about it, Bill," his dad said, "it'll all make sense later, just avoid the lump for now; you're in no shape to enjoy it. Are you clean?"
"I think so," he admitted, not wanting to dwell on his embarrassment.
"Then let's get you out of here," his father suggested. "How are the eyes?"
"Fuzzy blobs," Bill replied, far happier now that he was beginning to see improvement, "but I can sort of tell what things are."
"Good," his dad said, sounding pleased, "you'll be right as rain in half an hour or so."
He let his father help dry him, but he was very careful when it came to certain places and was much happier when he finally slipped a robe on. It felt much better to be clothed and he was feeling much stronger as well by the time his father led him back towards where he had woken up. He could even see well enough to realise that there were more blobs waiting in the room than had been there when he left.
"Hey, Bill," he heard Georg's familiar tones, "how're you feeling?"
"Better," he replied, hoping he was facing in the correct direction and then his nose picked up a familiar scent, "and starving, is that food?"
"Pizza," it was Gustav who replied.
His stomach gave an almighty growl in response to that revelation and he almost tried to find his own way back to the bed, but then he caught sight of the long blob that had to be the other bed.
"What about Tom?" he asked, looking towards his father.
"He's a couple of hours behind you," his father reassured him, "he'll wake up when he's ready. For now, you need food."
Bill wasn't overly happy that Tom was still out for the count, but he couldn't really do anything about it, so he let his father lead him back to the bed. He squinted and he could almost make out Georg, at least he thought it was Georg from the hair colour and size.
"Ow," he said as he stubbed the same toe he had stubbed earlier on the side of the bed, "I hate not being able to see."
"I imagine that must be a pain," a new voice said and he swung his head round to look at a blob he did not recognise in any way.
He narrowed his eyes trying to make something out about this new person, but it was no use.
"Hello," he said tentatively, not sure who he was speaking to.
What was a little weird was he thought the stranger smelt nice, which was not something he was usually prone to thinking.
"Hi, Bill," the stranger said in an amazingly cheerful tone, "glad to see you back with us. You look much better without the cocoon."
"Cocoon?" Bill was confused again, and sure he was blushing, because he just knew that voice was flirting with him even though he couldn't see the owner.
"Down, Jack," said a voice that he recognised as Gwen, she then said something else in rapid English that he didn't catch.
"Let's get you sat down and eating," his father chose that moment to take over and he let himself be positioned so he could sit down and someone passed him pizza.
"Thanks," he said and gave up trying to be polite since he really was ravenous.
He probably would have inhaled the food if he'd been allowed, he was that hungry. As it was, he was through three slices before he even paused.
"Finished?" Gustav, who it turned out had been the one passing him food, asked as he finally let some of the pizza settle.
"Pausing," he replied since he knew the feeling in his stomach; he was going to be hungry again any minute.
It then occurred to him what had happened last time after he had been so ravenous.
"I'm not going to spend hours throwing up again am I?" he asked, suddenly worried and he looked at where he hoped his father was standing.
"No," his dad reassured him and patted him on the arm, "that was just your body getting rid of everything it didn't need in the quickest way possible. You won’t need to do that again."
"Good," he commented firmly, "because it was awful."
"Sounds it," Jack was obviously still around.
"Would someone mind explaining what's going on now?" he asked after a moment's thought.
He had considered waiting for Tom to wake up, but he had decided he would rather know there and then.
"Where are we, for a start?"
He could see something of the room he was in now, although not much detail and it didn't feel like any hospital he had ever visited.
"This is Torchwood," it was Jack who spoke, "we're underground in the centre of Cardiff."
That wasn't quite what he had been expecting.
"And Torchwood is?" he asked since no one seemed to be about to speak.
"A branch of British intelligence that deals with extraterrestrial phenomena," Jack said pleasantly.
"Pardon?" Bill really wasn't quite sure he had heard that correctly.
"Extraterrestrials," Jack said, seemingly amused, "aliens, well and alien devices. You were caught in the fallout from an alien device we were trying to disarm."
Bill chose some interesting expletives and then used them since his brain refused to process that.
"Colourful vocabulary," Jack responded, "even I hadn't though of using some of those words in that context.
"I know plenty more," Bill said, not feeling particularly charitable after having found out this was at least partially Jack's fault, "so is that why I felt so shit all of yesterday?"
"Day before yesterday actually," Jack corrected, "and I think it's time for your dad to take over the explanation."
Bill looked at his father hard even though he couldn't see any clear expression on what he assumed was his father's face. At least there were blob like features on people now.
"We'll see you later," Georg said and Bill was quite surprised to find that everyone seemed to be leaving.
"Dad, what's going on?" he asked, rather unsettled.
"We need to have a little talk," his father admitted as they were left alone, "there's something your mother and I have never told you."
Bill didn't really like the sound of that.
"I'm not from Earth."
For a while the words refused to make sense in Bill's head, because their meaning would have just been too silly.
"Is this a joke?" he asked, completely confused by everything.
"No, Bill," his father said, "it’s not. I came here on a survey mission which would last fifty earth years. My people are very long lived so it's not as long as it sounds. I met your mother and was very surprised to fall in love and even more surprised when we turned out to be genetically compatible. You and Tom were quite a shock to both of us and that's why, when you were born, I made sure only your human genes were active. I wanted you and Tom to have normal lives, but the device that went off activated your alien side."
"I'm an alien?" it sounded ridiculous to his ears.
"Partially," his father said in a gentle tone.
Bill laughed because it was just that silly; this couldn't possibly be real.
"What did Jack mean by cocoon?" he asked as things began to pile up in his head and he didn't like any of them.
"We, that is Neranians," his father said, taking his hand, "usually go through the equivalent of puberty at about the age of twenty. Human puberty takes years, Neranian puberty takes a few days. Normally we spend months preparing for it, but you were thrown in at the deep end. You made yourself a cocoon out of what was around you so that you could change in safety, then you melted it into the goo you were covered in when you were ready to emerge."
"Change?" Bill hadn't been able to see himself yet and he was suddenly very afraid.
His father immediately pulled him close.
"It's okay, Bill," his father told him, "it's mostly internal. I think you already found one of the external changes and you're going to have to pretend you've had another tattoo done along here," he felt a finger run up his neck, "but that's about all."
"What about Tom?" he asked, mind working fast. "He wasn't with me when I was walking and he didn't have any symptoms."
"He came into contact with some residue from your cocoon," his dad explained, "and because you're genetically identical it pushed him into the change without the build up. The people from Torchwood made him an artificial cocoon to keep him safe and he'll be fine. He's past the dangerous time now and he's just sleeping."
He let himself relax against his father's shoulder for a while and just soaked in the comfort the position gave him. This was a shock and he wasn't sure he could deal with it; he wished Tom had been awake. It was beginning to occur to him that waiting might have been a better idea.
"I never wanted you to have to go through this," his father said eventually, "I'm sorry it happened this way."
That bothered Bill.
"But would you have told us the truth?" he asked, pulling back and doing his best to see his father's expression.
"Your mother and I agreed that we'd tell you when you were twenty one," his dad said and Bill was almost positive he could hear complete sincerity. "We had the whole thing planned out, but it looks like we were beaten to it."
"What does it mean for us?" was his next question and glanced over at where he could now just about see Tom lying.
"I'm not quite sure," his father replied, "but the Torchwood people seem friendly enough. We have to find out who planted that device and what it was intended for and I'm helping them with that for now. You and Tom are going to need time to recover and adjust though, so I think we'll be staying here for now. Once Tom is awake and you're both feeling better then we can decide what to do."
It was all too much for Bill and he moved into his father's hug again. Everything was strange now and he hoped Tom would wake up soon, because Tom was the only thing that made him feel balanced and safe.
It took just about the time his dad had said it would for Bill's eyesight to come back so he could see almost normally. The first thing he had done was found a mirror and checked that what his dad had told him about looking the same was true, because he hadn't been able to shake that fear. When all had been normal, he had breathed a huge sigh of relief, and he had had to admit that he quite liked the scroll-like markings down the side of his neck. After he had reassured himself, he had returned to his bed, sat down and begun to wait for Tom to wake up.
Picking the pepperoni off the top of his eighth slice of pizza, he popped it into his mouth and chewed happily. It was cold now, but cold pizza was almost as good as hot and once he finished the meat he started on the cheese.
"That is totally disgusting," the sound of Georg's voice made him turn to where his friend had just walked through the door.
He and his father had spent some time talking and this was the first he had seen of any of the others since they had left.
"It's not," he said, putting another lump of tomatoey cheese into his mouth, "it's really good."
It felt a little awkward as he tried to work out what to say next; it wasn't every day you found out you were part alien and he had no idea how Georg or Gustav would be taking the news. Georg looked totally relaxed, but then Georg always looked like that.
"How are the eyes?" Georg asked, wandering in and perching on the edge of the bed.
"Almost normal," Bill replied, glad that at least one of them didn't seem to be ridiculously nervous, "everything's just a little fuzzy on the edges."
"Ah, so just like you've had one too many then," Georg said with a laugh, "or for you, one."
"Ha," he responded immediately, "I could drink you under the table any day."
"I think I better call your dad," was Georg's response; "now you're delusional."
Bill stuck his tongue out and then helped himself to some more cheese. He started with a smile, but it soon faded as his thoughts turned to more serious things. He looked at Georg who was sitting there as passive as ever and decided to take his courage in his hands.
"Are you okay with all this?" he asked, sounding a whole lot more nervous than he wanted to.
Georg gave him a smile, a small, friendly smile.
"Bill, I'm your friend," Georg said, looking him directly in the eye; "you could be a demon from hell and it wouldn't make any difference. You and Tom have always been a bit otherworldly anyway; should have spotted it years ago. The same goes for Gustav; we drew straws to see who got to come in here because we both wanted too, but your Dad didn't want you overwhelmed."
"Really?" he asked before he caught himself; he honestly couldn't imagine what it would be like to find out you were friends with an alien.
"Really," Georg promised with a nod, "but I think the more important question is are you all right will all this?"
Bill stuffed a bit of pizza base in his mouth so he didn't have to answer that one straight away.
"I think I'll feel better once Tom wakes up," he admitted eventually since he was still feeling more than a little shaky.
Together he and Tom has always been able to face anything and he was feeling somewhat isolated with his twin still dead to the world.
"Not stirred yet then?" Georg asked and Bill looked over at Tom's sleeping form.
The Torchwood team had set up an oxygen tent with some sort of humidifier and Tom was inside, lying on his side looking for all the world as if he was just taking a nap. Nothing had changed at all while Bill had been sitting there waiting and he was basically hoping Tom would wake up soon.
"Not even a blink," he said, dragging his eyes away and focussing back on the half eaten slice of pizza.
"Even Tom can't sleep for much longer," Georg told him with a supportive grin.
"Yeah," Bill said and tried to make himself believe it.
He really would be a whole lot happier once Tom opened his eyes.
"Mind if I?" Georg asked and pointed to one of the pizza slices left in the boxes.
"Fight you for it," Bill said, trying to lift his spirits, before pushing the box towards Georg.
Georg grinned before picking up a slice, folding it and managing to get about half of it in his mouth at the same time.
"Urg, and you call me disgusting," was Bill's only response to that.
Bill shook his head and went back to pulling apart his own piece.
They chatted about nothing for a while and Bill was very glad of the company, but after a few minutes he heard something and he lost all interest in Georg. He turned his head and zeroed in on Tom, who had just clumsily rubbed his nose and then fallen still again. His father had told him that Tom would wake up when Tom was ready and nothing short of a nuclear strike would work until then, and Bill hoped the movement was a sign Tom was coming out of it.
When Tom slowly rolled onto his back and made a little snuffling noise, Bill was off his bed and beside Tom's so fast his head almost span.
"Tom," he said quietly, placing his hands on the clear plastic tent, but not opening it yet.
"Um," Tom replied, clearly still mostly asleep.
"Tom," Bill tried again, well aware that Tom was only half conscious.
This time Tom frowned and Bill's heart leapt as his twin's eyes flicked open.
"Bill?" Tom sounded more than a little confused.
That was all Bill needed; he unzipped the tent and dragged Tom into his arms like he'd been wanting to do since the moment he'd woken up himself.
"Tom," was all he managed to say as he clung on and he lost most other thoughts in relief at having his brother back.
Tom's arms gripped him loosely back, but it was quite clear his twin wasn't quite with it.
"Bill," Tom's rather muddled voice said eventually, "I can't see."
He immediately drew back so he could see Tom's face.
"It's okay," he said, managing to get himself enough under control to reassure Tom, "it'll come back. Dad said it's perfectly normal."
As he spoke he saw his words spark something in Tom's head, because he saw several emotions flit across Tom's face.
"Dad appeared out of thin air," Tom said as if he didn't quite believe what he was remembering, "and ... and ... Dad ..."
"And Dad's an alien, which makes us half alien," Bill finished for him.
His Dad had told him what happened in the hotel room and he wasn't surprised that Tom looked kind of gobsmacked.
"I've been awake for an hour or so," Bill tried to explain, "and Dad gave me part of the explanation. Believe it or not, what happened to us is his version of puberty. How are you feeling?"
Several emotions travelled across Tom's face and he could tell that his twin was conflicted about the whole thing, but Tom was highly unlikely to admit that out loud.
"Like I really need a shower," was what Tom decided on in the end.
"At least you're not covered in goo," Bill said while looking over his shoulder and asking Georg to go find someone with a quickly flick of his eyes.
"Goo?" Tom asked.
"Yeah," Bill replied, trying to make his tone sound light, "thick, yucky goo. I was covered in it from head to toe. You got to miss that bit."
"Good," Tom said, "I feel sticky enough as it is."
Tom was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers, but both were plastered to him with sweat. It was easy to sympathise with Tom wanting to take a shower and he hoped his dad would arrive soon so he could just help Tom get on with it.
"They had you in a humid oxygen tent," Bill decided to give a little explanation himself, "to keep you warm. I did that all by myself with the cocoon."
"Yeah, I saw it," Tom said, holding his hands quite tightly, "scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry," Bill said, feeling suddenly guilty.
Tom gave him a momentary smile for that.
"Not exactly your fault," Tom told him, but the humour was overtaken by shock again pretty soon.
"It's okay, Tom," Bill said in little more than a whisper, "we're okay."
He prayed Tom wasn't going to crack up, because he just knew that if Tom went, he'd fall apart too. Squeezing Tom's hand, he tried to give reassurance, because if Tom couldn't cope then neither could he. For a moment he was afraid, but then he saw Tom's expression change and he saw strength there.
"Of course we are," Tom replied and squeezed his hand back, "when we're together we're always okay."
Bill almost sagged in relief and he turned when he heard someone coming through the door.
"Tom," his father said as soon as he was in the room, "how are you feeling?"
"He wants a shower and then we all need to have a talk," Bill said before Tom could reply.
For once he was going to look after Tom, and he knew Tom would get into a discussion if allowed, and things had looked far better after his shower. Being clean was definitely a confidence builder.
His father looked at him and obviously saw that this was not open for negotiation.
"That sounds like a very good idea," his dad wisely decided.
Tom had clearly heard the stubbornness in his tone as well, because there was no argument from his twin either.
End of Part 2
On to Part 3