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Torchwood is exciting, the way that it had once been in New York when he'd been hunted by Company and by a serial killer posing as a friend in horribly lame band t-shirts. Mohinder's move from Company heel and Noah Bennet's lapdog back to the UK (the only place he'd felt safe to bring Molly where she would be able to understand the language and still be away from the mess in America) to Torchwood agent had happened as they usually did.

Jack courted him. Mohinder refused until refusing became impossible. And that's why he finds himself here, standing in the so called Red Zone, around a theme park with the less than illustrious name of "Figmentation Imagination Exploration World!" scrolled across the metal sign in large, person sized letters over the box office queuing area.

He glances over at the lanky Scotsman he is almost always paired with and the pair of chain cutters he's currently failing with at the gate. A sigh and Mohinder adjusts the earpiece he's wearing. "Captain, still having a bit of trouble with the front gate. We should be inside in about an hour at this rate." He's only half teasing though he can hear Owen's voice saying something irately in the background.

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Mohinder is just as quiet as Jack is while he follows the exuberant Peter into the underground tunnels leading across the park. No one even sees him slip out of the SUV's open back door until he crosses the headlamp beam.

Sam, in control of his body here and there, glances away from the screen as he feels Gene quake inside of him. Weirdest thing he's ever felt, by the way. It's bad enough to feel too full, to be knocked out of control from time to time, but to know Gene's upset, uncomfortable, and perhaps even scared--

It's a little too much for him.

"Jesus, Mohi--" And back to Gene again. Sorry for the whiplash, Owen!

Jack presses a hand to the bluetooth and frowns. "Guys-- Guys, please fetch our geneticist. I'm a little busy?"

Gene hurried out, making use of Sam's body to forcefully shove Mohinder back towards Owen, he grabbed a hold of Mohinder tight. "Seriously, Suresh, just stay. I can't see a bloody thing on this without you."

Owen waited for Sam to get back in the SUV but when he looked up, the sod was already through the gates. And he couldn't just abandon Jack like that, he needed to stay outside and stay relatively sane.

"Jack, Sam and Gene have just gone in."

For whatever reason. He didn't know. He couldn't make any sense of this. Or what Peter was doing. As the excited man ran ahead and pulled open the door, the sight that greeted them was very much viable to both parties. The cast room was weird yet normal enough on a screen. Lots of empty costumes hanging up and one flat on it's back in the middle, bit like it had been attacked or something. Strange.

In person? Well, the smell of rotting flesh was overpowering and the atmosphere was very unpleasant. Yet Peter didn't mind. Because to him, they were all standing very normally and very happily.

"Photo?"

Damn it. He'd wanted them to split up originally, sure, but things had gotten a little too real, a little too quickly. He's been unable to really see anything going on until that point and was relying on Mohinder to examine the feeds and give him a heads up on what's happening.

Of course...that's not really necessary any more.

Jack wets his lips and steadies his breathing. "I dunno, Peter. Think they're all asleep or on break?" He's not really all that surprised when the mascot in the center of the room sits up.

In fact, he'd expected it.

"Was this the bear," Jack asks, swallowing, "that tried to take his head off for you?" Snap out of it Peter!

Peter blinked several times before a slightly unnerving look came on his face. He still wasn't there but at least he was answering questions. "He does his trick for all good boys and girls. He likes an audience."

Yep, Jack, you're about to see his trick. Especially since the mascot is looking at them with it's dead eyes. It was a very unpleasant place to be and anyone who was sane didn't want to be there. Especially since it reeked of rot.

"Jack," Gene said over the comm he'd nicked while in the SUV. Thank God Sammy knew how to use one of these. "You're standing in the crisis point. Whoever or whatever is in there with you is the cause. I'm not sure if it's a demon or not but all the spirits are connected to it. Do you know any exorcisms?"

Cause Gene can come and try but odds are, he'll forget some words and balls it up a little. Just a little heads up before it happens.

"Oh and make sure Peter doesn't touch it!"

Thanks guys. They say that as Mister Mental here is going over to give it a hug? Jack immediately grabs Peter by the waist. "Yes, yes, get down here!" Jack yells and gives Peter a tug back.

It's not just the mascot in the center that's moving...all of the costumes seem to be.

Mohinder's already running, despite feeling like he might vomit at any moment. Sam is just behind him, kicking up his heels and happily informing Gene internally that they're lucky it's Sam's body, not Gene's, that they're sharing right now.

All of those bacon bunties makes it hard to run, huh?

Peter struggled with a surprising amount of strength to get to the stuffed bear. It wasn't often that Peter fought, he usually used his words or his gun, the distance was almost always there. Now, however, he was fully fighting against Jack, straining to get free to the now laughing mascot, it's hollow eyes on both of them.

"Do you kids want to see a trick?"

Ah, here we go again. Peter laughed, despite his current predicament and continued to flail towards freedom.

Fortunately yes, Sam's poncy body was the faster runner but hell, Gene could of made it if he needed to. Sam was just ... spindly. Made him faster is all.

"Bloody hell," Gene cursed as he grabbed a hold of Mohinder before he could touch anything, shoving himself passed both parties to face the creature who was attempting to pull the oversized plush mask off. Gene winced in sympathy as it all hit him. Poor bastard, he died in it. In his suit. And no one even noticed. Hours spent in it, vomiting and terrible rashes. Not nice at all.

"It's a spirit. It's a persons spirit! They're controlling it and it's manifested. I've -- I've never seen anything like it. Rift influence?"

"Probably," Jack says, half sitting on Peter as he pulled him into the corner. It takes a long time just to get him restrained. Mohinder, trying to help, pulls Peter's face around to force the other man to look at him and not the creature. "Mohinder, can you hold him?"

The answer? Probably not but they need Jack. Sam can't face it alone. He nods and takes over, allowing Jack to stand beside Gene.

The mascot is still trying to rip off its head when Jack steps forward. "What do you want? Why do you keep calling people to you?!"

Yes. Jack does the Doctor's way first. Negotiation. He's trying to be worth of the Time Lord.

"He wants to make people suffer, Jack. Suffer for their fun. They're the ones that want it, that's why he has to stay stuck in a suit for eight hours a week. They brought this on him," Gene reasoned on the creatures behalf. He could see it all, he found understand it. And he wished he could empathise but -- well, Gene was not exactly Mister Empathy. He had two modes at best. Shoot or not shoot.

It had been a horrible death, Gene had to admit. All that heat and sickness, all boiling over till he keeled over and suffocated inside the giant bear costume. No one noticed for over a week and by then, well, he'd rotted into the suit. They were one.

And he made everyone suffer. His bosses, the other staff, the children and the adults. Oh God, that hit him as well. The people. The war and gas masks, everyone hiding in the dark. It was too easy.

The whole thing made him feel sick.

"Jack, kill it. Kill the bastard. He's not worth saving."

Gene got to make that call. He didn't care that Jack or this Doctor guy would say. He knew an evil spirit when he saw one.

Honestly, Jack doesn't question it. Gene's explanation is a sound one. The creature in there is already dead and far too gone to understand what they were trying to do. It wouldn't leave voluntarily.

Always amazed at how a simple bullet, nothing fancy, could take down a creature like this, Jack levels his revolver on the creature and fires three times into it's head before he puts another three bullets in it's chest.

The flow of yellow liquid and sticky brown glop that spills from the wounds are putrid but at least the rotting bear takes two staggering steps back. The lights flicker and turn off immediately and screams all through the park can be heard. Jack turns towards Gene and pushes him, in Sam's body, towards the door.

Distrupting a spirit's hold on a place is all good and well....but it typically causes the foundation of that spirit to become unstable.

They don't want to be trapped.

Gene made sure to yank both the geneticist and the Scot up, shoving them towards the door. Mohinder seemed to be snapping out of it, as did Peter, but both seemed a little dazed. All well and good to make a run for it but don't leave him trying to save the day, Jack!

Sure, he's the big damn hero here but he prefers saving a beautiful young thing.

Even if he usually only ends up saving Sam half the time. Thank God he's in the ponces body or he'd probably somehow be in danger.

"Jack, grab Carlisle, I'll get Suresh!" The sooner they all got out, the better. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life in some sort of nightmare sludge.

It's the first time Jack's seen the people in the gasmasks since arriving but they are all standing there, with other costumed mascots, hands pressed to their faces or character heads, tugging wildly and screaming. Jack can't save them all and even if he could, his loyalty is to his team first and foremost.

He'll apologize later to their families if they can't all get out.

That doesn't stop him from scooping up a little girl and grabbing an older boy by the hand to drag them along. "Owen, what are the readings?!" he yells as they truck towards the front gate.

"That place is going nuclear, Jack. Get the hell out!" Owen yelled as he double checked the stats and threw the SUV open. They soon they all got in, the safer they would be. And the quicker he could start making sure no one was possessed, dying or turning into a mascot.

As they ran towards the exit, the lost souls cried out and tried to grab onto anyone they could. Gene didn't stop for anyone, he had gotten good at ignoring cries for help. Even if it always seemed wrong.

He didn't let Sam take control, he'd probably try to save them all.

Peter, predictably, regained his sense rather quickly and swiftly started to out run Jack towards the gate. Oh woah, he seriously just needed to be as far away from here as possible. He didn't even remember coming here!

"Shit, shit, shit!" he yelled as something black started to race through the park behind them. Peter scrambled hastily to overtake Jack to the gates. He didn't need to be trapped here forever and ever.

The SUV is about to be significantly more crowded with the children Jack has in tow, but it can't be helped. Both are scratching him and screaming blue bloody murder but Jack isn't letting go. He shoves the girl into Mohinder's arms as they cross the gate and locks the boy in the trunk while they all pile into the car.

He's not stopping for anything once they get inside.

That hour drive from Cardiff? He's going to make it in half that. There's no choice in the matter right now. Jack floors the gas and sends the SUV lurching down the dirt road away from the park, glowing and playing the most horrendous music behind them.

Peter still managed to claim shotgun as everyone crammed into the car, belting up as Jack shot off down the road. Great, they were only just escaping with their lives from this whole and they were probably going to die in a traffic collision. Just what he needed. Oh yeah and one more thing.

"Did you just throw a kid in our boot?" Peter asked with an entirely baffled frown on his face. "Did we-- did I-- why was I with a mascot anyway?"

He paused, contemplating what the answer might be, then waved his hand in general dismissal. "Don't care, don't tell me. I'm done on this one."

The black smoggy thing that covered the whole of the park seemed to stay just above the park. It wasn't following them but it didn't look promising. It's reach was clearly further than it looked because the SUV radio turned itself on and the worst kind of music came blasting through. One last attempt to spook them maybe? Peter promptly turned it off just as it started.

"I hate that song!"

"Drive!" Sam just screams as he, finally able to gain control from Gene, tries to hold the girl in Mohinder's lap still. It's not... It's not really working. She keeps trying to pull the mask off, though it's as if the strap is attached directly to her skin. Mohinder can't keep her still, can't stop her from scratching up her face alone.

Sorry Peter. They'll pay attention to you later.

Maybe.

"Just keep her still!" Jack yells. "She keeps kicking my seat!"

He swerves and Mohinder finds himself pinned against the door, the girls hands caught in his hair now.

"The kid in the boot probably has his face off," Owen pointed out, not sure what he could actually do here cause this wasn't his area. He swiftly set up a syringe and passed it over to Sam, hoping it was enough to know her out. Cause he didn't need to die in a crash. It'd be a bit annoying to say the least. "Dose her!"

The sooner she was unconscious, the better. They would be able to focus more on what they had to do next. Rush back, test the survivors, panic like mad. Those things in general.

"Saving people seems like a dumb idea. Just saying," Peter added, not meaning to be cruel.

Saving them seemed like a good idea but with no parents, this level of trauma and a potential disfigurement? Well, it wasn't going to be a life worth living. He would of preferred to be shot than suffer that.

"I wasn't saving them," Jack says almost cruelly while Mohinder lightly strokes the golden hair if the girl now passed out against his chest. The Indian blinks and turns towards Sam and Owen. Did he just hear that right?

He swallows a little and though he isn't one to say anything to Jack, this has his morally outraged. "What?!"

"We need them for testing, unless you want Owen to test on you and Peter," Jack's reply comes all too quickly and Mohinder sits back, swallowing.

"I--"

"Owen, pulling over. I need you to try and dose the kid back there too."

Once they were pulled over safely on the hard shoulder, Peter proceeded to undo his seat belt while Owen went around to the back with a syringe and a gun. This could either end very well or very badly. And maybe he was awfully horribly selfish but he saw Jack's point.

"Did you have to pick children? You could of got a man or a women. Or like a mascot. This is a bit too far even for you."

Unlike Mohinder, Peter knew how far Jack could go and the horrors he could commit when warranted a chance. He just wished sometimes that he went an easier way so his team could stomach this whole dark side of the job. He knew how these things always played out anyway.

Eventually Jack would feel crushing guilt that he'd try to sleep away and Owen would probably fall out with him over it. Always did. He was likely to kill the kids before he did any sort of experiment.

Returning to the car, Owen gave Jack his best glare and purposefully kicked the back of the mans seat. "He's out."

"Good." Jack hadn't been planning on answering Peter or his claim about how far he could go. Dragging and lifting grown people and still getting out without his energy being absorbed by that place? Impossible.

Besides, he still hopes that there is a way to fix this. That there is a way to save the others.

The Captain pulls back out into the street. "If I didn't bring them, they would have gotten swallowed up in that cloud any way." Go ahead and judge him.

He doesn't care.

Mohinder, however, does care. He clings to the girl, no more than five years old and a good bit younger than Molly, as if he could fix her just with a hug. He insists on carrying her to Owen's medical theatre too. And sitting with her. There's a strange, lost look in Mohinder's eyes.

He's always been too sensitive.

Peter is perhaps a bit more distant from these things than the others. Maybe that's why Jack picked him? He was never sure. Owen was very emotional when it came to the injured and Mohinder cared far too much for these little lost lambs. Ianto was very empathic, especially with Jack, and Tosh cared whenever Owen did. Seemed to be her way.

He just felt oddly hollow. Like he knew he should feel bad but he just didn't. He was alive and that's all that mattered.

While Owen began tests, Peter came to sit by Sam. Gene seemed to of been gone, it was obvious by how little Sam was swearing now. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and let his head roll back.

"Can we leave yet or do we have to make sure we're not possessed?"

"Do you really want to be alone now?" Jack stands looking down at the people gathered. Owen and Ianto are bringing in the boy from the trunk, his face mauled by his own fingers. Mohinder is down there with the little girl.

He glances at Peter and nods in the vague direction of the room he usually sleeps in...when he sleeps. "You can use my mattress if you want to sleep, but you should stay here."

Tosh has likely kept Molly upstairs and in back and Mohinder is grateful for that. He can't face the girl, not yet. Jack calls down to him and gestures for him to come away. Mohinder is...reluctant. But he does listen.

"I want you both to rest. It's been a long day."

"I don't want to sleep, Jack. Why would I ever want to sleep?" Peter said in a tone that made it perfectly clear he wasn't about to. Maybe Mohinder should, he'd had a long say, but Peter couldn't. He never could after something like this. Insomnia often came hand in hand with his depression and after a day like this? He didn't need sleep.

He'd only see the theme park. And the mascots. And all those screaming people, reaching out for help.

And how sickeningly pleased he is that he got to live.

"I just want to go home. I need to make sure Leonardo is fine. And my fish need feeding. Besides, I still haven't written a report nor had dinner. It's only 12pm, so much ahead," Sleep wasn't something he had on the books. Maybe an all nighter? Some nice coffee, maybe some waffles? Sounded better than sleep. "I'm fine alone. If something goes wrong, there's only me to kill now."

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