you're a marionette in the center of all the twisting strings coming from above
Daniel has come to know the feeling hanging in the air this evening well; it's part fear, part uncertainty, part resolve. It gives rise to a familiar pattern: something happens, the city copes, its residents push forward. He's one of them. He doesn't know how many friends he's lost, but he recognizes names among the numbers being tossed around.
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And this... this is awkward.
"Judging by the look on your face, I'm guessing you don't know how to react to this," he says. "To be honest, neither do I. ...I formed Torchwood in Chicago two years ago, but I had to abdicate command after a pretty nasty political dispute. Romana Angelos, if you know that bit of history. Chicago being Chicago..."
And there, he's suddenly unsure of how to phrase that. My life spiralled out of control. I burnt all my bridges. I went insane. Too much of my past caught up with me.
"...I never re-assumed the position," he says. "...that's a long unpleasant story, but... if you need to hear it, I'll tell it."
He grimaces. Honesty. It's a skill he's forcing himself to learn, and it's hard. It was hard in his own universe, with Sam; it's been hard here, with Gwen, with Suzie, with Huck, with everyone. He keeps hoping it'll get easier, but he doesn't really believe that it will.
"Owen found me just after this Rift event. Pretty much forced me back into command at gunpoint, which... is not something I would have ever expected of Owen, to be honest, but I guess this is what I do." He shrugs. "Crisis cleanup. So!"
He motions up the stairs, in the direction of Gwen's office.
"Tell me about yourself, Dan. How'd you get roped into this madhouse? Position, skills, interests, favorite foods?"
There's a light edge of joking on that last question.
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He stays silent as Jack speaks, fidgeting every few seconds with a hangnail on his thumb. "Yeah, I... you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. We all have our... you know. Things." Much the opposite of Jack, Dan's learning to not spill his personal story to anyone who'll lend an ear.
"Anyway," he says, stepping ahead of Jack, "I'm technically a theoretical physicist. I knew Juliet, back home, so... that's how this whole thing worked out. Anyway, the rift I fell through gave me this remote-viewing power. Are you familiar with the concept? Because it's pretty much the exact same thing, except I don't need to touch an object to see something or someone. I guess it's kind of like having a satellite in my head. Anyway, I found someone's car, once..." And then he trails off, shrugging. What else?
"Oh. I also play piano. And I'm engaged."
That last part, he feels, might've been unnecessary. But. It's still true.
There's also the whole "building a time machine" thing, but Jack... doesn't need to know about that. Yet.
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...that had been weird.
"So, support," he says, a they're heading up the stairs. "Reconnaisance and operations. How are you with application of those sciences - any builder-tinker talents?"
Mercury seems to have the computers down; he really should have asked if she was was good at building devices. Someone's got to fill that role. ...there are a lot of roles that need filling.
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Jack doesn't need to know about Dan's new time machine. His old one, which did technically work, is another story. "I built a time machine, once. A few years ago. Um. I can also assemble communication devices. Really, if I have the right parts and the right blueprints, or even if I know what kind of device I'm working with, I can build it."
Once they reach Gwen's office, Dan stops, clearly unnerved. He's never been up here without... well, nearly everyone being around.
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"Time machine," he says. "Well, if you weren't already in, I'd say you were hired."
He stops at the door when Dan does, tilting his head with a sympathetic expression.
"The ghosts will go away after a while," he says, an instant before he realizes that this is perhaps not the clearest metaphor in this building. "The ghosts of the missing, anyway. In the mean time, we're still here. And that's important."
And you can't be in Torchwood if you can't handle loss, he doesn't say. Torchwood Chicago is safer than Torchwood Cardiff - sometimes. And from some things. But it is what it is - what Torchwood under Jack's command has always been.
Without looking behind him, he pushes the door to the empty office open.
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Not everyone's fit for this city. He'd like to think that everyone gone is, clichéd as it sounds, in a better place. Not that he's religious, but he's sure they probably are. Somewhere.
Once he's in the office, he leans against the nearest piece of furniture, folds his arms across his chest, and looks at Jack. "So, what now?"
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What now.
That's always the question.
Jack sits on the edge of the desk. He's not going to keep this place pristine, agonize over breaking down their rooms and offices - not if he can help it. He has no time for a vigil for the hopefully-not-dead.
"Now, we see what resources Torchwood has been left with," he says. "So far, we've got one commander, one medic, one computers specialist, and one op-tech confirmed. If Chicago feels like letting us be lucky, we'll find Mac and Juliet, and... whoever else is still unaccounted-for." He grits his teeth for a moment, but presses on. "Elashte will be coming to give me a briefing on the current political landscape. I'll be keeping my eyes out for any potential new recruits. And then we hope we're up to fighting wight before Chicago throws anything else at us."
Yeah. Good luck with that, Torchwood.
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It sounds simple enough, but Dan still feels like he's standing behind some great, invisible wall.
"So..." He stares at his hands for a few seconds, running a thumb against his knuckles. It's like falling through a rift all over again, really-his entire world is changing as quickly as it did a little over a year ago.
At least he's not alone, this time.
"What do you need me to do?"
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Waiting is the worst part of this sort of thing.
"If you can, I need you to scope out the city," he says. "See if you can find Mac, Juliet and Marshall, and if not, see if you can ascertain the scope of the damage. If what happened here is any indication, other organizations in Chicago might be suffering as well. We need to see what the landscape looks like."
And then maybe they can stage a coup. ...yeah; given that he just worked out that they had a remote-viewer, this is not a plan he's exactly thought more than one step ahead. But hey, more information is... generally a good thing.
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He straightens his tie, a little distracted. "Do you have any idea where they usually... you know, hung out? Aside from here. I need a starting point. I could just work out from here, though, I guess."
This is weird. This was supposed to be his job months ago, but they never really needed him, and now... the reasons behind this whole situation are just weird. And bad. But mostly weird.
(It's possible that 'weird' is not the right word. Dan can't think of a better one, though.)
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