Marcus L. Rowland (ffutures) wrote in calufrax,
Marcus L. Rowland
ffutures
calufrax

Rec: Home is whenever I'm with you by Poetry

I'm ffutures, Marcus Rowland on Teaspoon, and I'll be reccing for the next two weeks. I've gone with an assortment of stories that appealed to me; as usual, this includes some crossovers, old and new Who, Torchwood, and Sarah-Jane Adventures. I should mention that I don't regard Whoverse-only stories as crossovers even if they have characters from different eras, Torchwood, SJA, etc. Looking at this list as a whole there seems to be more Captain Jack than usual, but I don't necessarily regard that as a bad thing.

Let's begin with an angsty crossover...

Story: Home is whenever I'm with you
Author: Poetry
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 16244
Author's Summary: In which our heroes travel the multiverse to find a way back Home, only to discover they'd been Home all along. A fusion with The Homeward Bounders by Diana Wynne Jones, though no knowledge of the book is needed to enjoy the story.
Characters/Pairings: Amy Pond, Jack Harkness, Jack Harkness, The Doctor (10th), The Doctor (11th), The Doctor (9th)
Warnings: None

Recced because: It's an extremely successful fusion of the Doctor Who characters and some of their background with the universe of The Homeward Bounders, one of the best British YA fantasy novels, with extra wibbly-wobbly multiversal angst.


At sunset, Bo and Kip led Jacerel out of the alley, through a network of filthy streets, until the mud and brick buildings thinned out. They were at an oxbow lake at the curve of a river, where ships floated out from a brightly lit harbor. There were other children at the lake already. Those who weren’t bathing already were stripping off their clothes. Jacerel didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t an ocean, but he missed the water. He rinsed himself clean and had a splash fight with Kip and Bo.

When they emerged from the lake, shivering a little, there was a fire lit on the bank. There was a man tending the fire, tall and pale with a mess of spiky brown hair, his thin frame lost in a long brown coat. He had a basket of bread and another of cured meat. Jacerel realized he was starving.

Everyone gathered around the fire. The man passed around bread and meat, taking care to distribute it fairly. Each child murmured a phrase ending in the word “Harkness” when they received the food. It took Jacerel a while to realize that the word was the man’s name. When Harkness came to him, he gave Jacerel a long, considering look with brown eyes that seemed too old for his face. He seemed like he was about to say something, but instead he just smiled a little and gave Jacerel his dinner.

Harkness told them stories. Jacerel couldn’t understand them, but he could tell they were stories, from the lilt in his voice and the way the kids leaned in to listen. At the end, when the youngest were nodding off, he said, “The slavers have all hauled anchor from Vikramantown Harbor. You’re safe to walk the streets,” and just like that, Jacerel understood his words.

So that was why Bo and Kip wouldn’t let him out of the alley. “Thank you,” he told them. “For stopping me from doing something stupid.”

“Jack! You remember how to speak!” Bo said

“Sorry,” said Jacerel. “I was… out of it.”

Kip smiled. “It’s OK. Even if you never remembered how to speak, I would have liked you. You’re good at marbles.”
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