Jack looks down, letting that news sink into him. It's not the only thing he feels sinking.
"It was always a long shot," he says, and hates the part of himself that lets him characterize things that way. Saving her. Her survival was always improbable. Some people are built for the worlds they find themselves in, and some people aren't - and he includes himself in the latter category. It's just that he's slightly too adept at survival, and Iris wasn't adept enough. Not for this place and all its bitter disappointments.
But those that will not break it kills, plays in the back of his head. He's quoted that, the first part, to Iris, kept those particular words to himself because she might find something too apt in them. Looks like it didn't matter, in the end. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.
"I'm sorry," he says, and winces at the sound of it. He always seems to be coming back to apologize, these days. And for the most part the apologies are just as useless as the ones he remembers, from a much different (are they so different?) man, ringing over and over against the futility of it all.
"Don't apologize," Mio says heavily. "It sounds callous, but frankly, it was a relief. The hard part was watching her as she slowly lost all sense of who she was and be able to do nothing to stop it. I'm not a healer. Never have been. In the best case scenario, I can help patch things up temporarily so they can stay functional while they come to grips with things, but with Iris it was like trying to treat a sucking chest wound with band-aids. I saw what happened coming from weeks away. I just regret that I wasn't able to be there with her at the end." She sighs. She would really like a hug right now, but she knows better than to ask for one. That would just end up badly for both of them.
"Oh, speaking of sucking chest wounds," her tone becoming more business-like as she tries to shove her grief out of the way, "Gwen got stabbed or something a couple weeks ago. We were able to save her, but she lost the baby. She got out of the infirmary about a week ago; I've co-opted her into desk work. We've been short-handed with Phoebe gone--I'd been hoping she was with you, but I guess not--and with Mercury handing in her resignation we'll be even more so. Oh, and Tsunetsuki got into some kind of fight with Owen and ran off, but that's not really all that much of a loss." Mio barely tries to hide her distaste for the girl. "I've taken the liberty of revoking her access to the Torchwood systems."
Jack might have has something to say to address the moral complexities of healing and mercy, but he doesn't get a chance to before that status report hits him in the face. And-
"Wait, Gwen was stabbed?" is the first thing out of his mouth; then, like his processing is racing after Mio's words and always just a step behind, "wait, baby? What - Phoebe's gone? I-"
Aaand, critical confusion is reached. Requests for clarification shutting down.
"-one moment," he says, and looks down to his wrist device to key in the universal-matching program the Doctor installed ages ago. Because he's suddenly not at all certain he's come back into the same universe he left from.
Mio's not seeing so many moral complexities. At points, Iris had lost all sense of self to the point where she couldn't even recognize who or what she was anymore. In a lot of ways, Iris's mind had already died long before the body did and Mio had felt it. Even so, she did everything she could for Iris right up until the very end, even to the detriment of her own physical and mental needs. Mio couldn't have gone on trying to support Iris to the extent that she had been for much longer without spiraling into near-insanity herself. Iris's death saved Mio from having to make the choice between Iris and herself.
"We think it was some kind of mugging gone wrong," Mio says. "And yes, baby. She was pregnant when she came through the Rift...was I seriously the only person that knew?" Though it's not like Gwen had really told anybody. She hadn't exactly told Mio voluntarily either.
"Yeah, I haven't seen her in over a month. The last time I saw her was at the party where..." Mio trails off as she drops her head in her hands in exasperation. "...The party where the mad bomber blew up Rachel Dawes and Robin Rice. ...oh and while we're on the topic of horrible deaths, Daniel Faraday was found nailed to a cross in Grant Park on the 9th, courtesy of the CLF."
Now you can see why Mio has been in a constant state of hating everything for the last three months.
Jack has to take a moment to digest all of that before speaking. Otherwise, he's afraid any speech would come out in a gibber. If he knew how to turn around and walk straight back into the rift that skipped him up here, he'd be half-tempted to.
Instead, he just closes his eyes, takes a deep, steadying breath, and heaves all expectation that Chicago might have some semblance of stability out of his cognition with both metaphorical hands.
Right. Death, stabbing, revelation, death, disappearance, death, death, death. Sounds like Torchwood Chicago to him. He raises one hand to head off her next words.
"Let's save the good news for last," he says. I have a feeling I'll need it to wash the taste out of my mouth. "Who was taking care of Gwen prior to her release from the infirmary, and has she seen anyone even remotely like a trauma counselor?"
He can have what he suspects will be a very long conversation with her about why the hell she didn't tell anyone after he's sure she's all right and able to handle it. ...though, hell, if he's honest with himself, trying to bull her out of Torchwood when she showed up probably didn't make her want to tell him anything. It's like a Kobayashi Maru: let his team join Torchwood as they show up and likely see them tortured and killed if not worse, or try to protect them from himself and watch them go out and destroy themselves and others. That's the sort of choice that happened in the Agency. It was never supposed to, here.
"Martha," Mio replies. "And yes, if you consider Martha qualified to act as a trauma counselor. Considering all the bullshit she's been through in her own life, I certainly think she is."
She shrugs and takes a sip of her tea. "I've been trying to keep an eye on her since she was released. That was part of the reason I put her to work; she's somewhere where I can see her that way. I can't exactly say she's doing okay right now, because no one is 'okay' after something like that, but she's coping. She's a strong woman." Not that she expected anything less from Gwen. Frankly, she kind of envies that strength. Not many people are able to remain empathetic to the troubles of others in the face of their own tragedies the way Gwen does. Mio certainly can't, although she's learned to do a good job of faking it, over the years.
"No kidding," Jack mutters, and it's an open question whether he means Martha's qualifications-by-fire or Gwen's strength. He shakes his head. "And how are you, dare I ask? Psychically, emotionally, professionally, spiritually, whatever you want to give me." Which is probably more bad news, just from looking at her. Acting head of Torchwood Chicago isn't exactly a job that lends a great deal of emotional stability to those performing it.
Of course, he's not expecting to hear much of that bad news from Mio, even if he is asking her. Working for Torchwood at all seems to mean you become incapable of communicating your own needs and emotions, if you were at all capable before. Jack's perfectly aware that some of it is selection bias, but given Gwen...
"Been hell of a lot better, that's for sure," Mio mutters darkly. She takes a slow breath to steady herself before trying to respond with a less flippant answer. "Honestly? By the time Iris died, I was burnt out. I was beyond burnt out, to the point where the only thing keeping me going was sheer stubborn willpower and large quantities of caffeine and ibuprofen. On top of the regular Torchwood stuff, I was spending hours every day in a psychic trance trying to track down the CLF and spend time with Iris and keep her from falling into a completely dissociated state. I tried to delegate as much of the Torchwood stuff as I could, but it's not exactly like we had manpower to spare. I was about three steps away from collapsing of exhaustion before Aurora and Uchiko-chan ganged up on me and bullied me into starting to take better care of myself. That was about a week before Iris died." Mio sighs. There's still a part of her that says But if only I could have done a little bit more..., but she knows deep down that no, she couldn't have, or she would have ended up dead too.
"I think I slept for the better part of two weeks after Iris died. There didn't seem to be any point in trying to fight my body anymore . I would wake up for a few hours every day, eat, and try to get some work done before falling back asleep. It's only been in the past few days that I've gotten back to anywhere near something resembling normal...physically at least. Psychically, well...at least the rebound headaches have eased up now."
Jack may note that while Mio has said quite a bit about how she's been, she's said practically nothing on the topic of her needs or her emotions. But hey, it's still a whole hell of a lot more than she's told most people, and a hell of a lot more than she'd have told him a few months ago.
"It was always a long shot," he says, and hates the part of himself that lets him characterize things that way. Saving her. Her survival was always improbable. Some people are built for the worlds they find themselves in, and some people aren't - and he includes himself in the latter category. It's just that he's slightly too adept at survival, and Iris wasn't adept enough. Not for this place and all its bitter disappointments.
But those that will not break it kills, plays in the back of his head. He's quoted that, the first part, to Iris, kept those particular words to himself because she might find something too apt in them. Looks like it didn't matter, in the end. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.
"I'm sorry," he says, and winces at the sound of it. He always seems to be coming back to apologize, these days. And for the most part the apologies are just as useless as the ones he remembers, from a much different (are they so different?) man, ringing over and over against the futility of it all.
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"Oh, speaking of sucking chest wounds," her tone becoming more business-like as she tries to shove her grief out of the way, "Gwen got stabbed or something a couple weeks ago. We were able to save her, but she lost the baby. She got out of the infirmary about a week ago; I've co-opted her into desk work. We've been short-handed with Phoebe gone--I'd been hoping she was with you, but I guess not--and with Mercury handing in her resignation we'll be even more so. Oh, and Tsunetsuki got into some kind of fight with Owen and ran off, but that's not really all that much of a loss." Mio barely tries to hide her distaste for the girl. "I've taken the liberty of revoking her access to the Torchwood systems."
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"Wait, Gwen was stabbed?" is the first thing out of his mouth; then, like his processing is racing after Mio's words and always just a step behind, "wait, baby? What - Phoebe's gone? I-"
Aaand, critical confusion is reached. Requests for clarification shutting down.
"-one moment," he says, and looks down to his wrist device to key in the universal-matching program the Doctor installed ages ago. Because he's suddenly not at all certain he's come back into the same universe he left from.
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"We think it was some kind of mugging gone wrong," Mio says. "And yes, baby. She was pregnant when she came through the Rift...was I seriously the only person that knew?" Though it's not like Gwen had really told anybody. She hadn't exactly told Mio voluntarily either.
"Yeah, I haven't seen her in over a month. The last time I saw her was at the party where..." Mio trails off as she drops her head in her hands in exasperation. "...The party where the mad bomber blew up Rachel Dawes and Robin Rice. ...oh and while we're on the topic of horrible deaths, Daniel Faraday was found nailed to a cross in Grant Park on the 9th, courtesy of the CLF."
Now you can see why Mio has been in a constant state of hating everything for the last three months.
"I do have one bit of good news, though."
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Instead, he just closes his eyes, takes a deep, steadying breath, and heaves all expectation that Chicago might have some semblance of stability out of his cognition with both metaphorical hands.
Right. Death, stabbing, revelation, death, disappearance, death, death, death. Sounds like Torchwood Chicago to him. He raises one hand to head off her next words.
"Let's save the good news for last," he says. I have a feeling I'll need it to wash the taste out of my mouth. "Who was taking care of Gwen prior to her release from the infirmary, and has she seen anyone even remotely like a trauma counselor?"
He can have what he suspects will be a very long conversation with her about why the hell she didn't tell anyone after he's sure she's all right and able to handle it. ...though, hell, if he's honest with himself, trying to bull her out of Torchwood when she showed up probably didn't make her want to tell him anything. It's like a Kobayashi Maru: let his team join Torchwood as they show up and likely see them tortured and killed if not worse, or try to protect them from himself and watch them go out and destroy themselves and others. That's the sort of choice that happened in the Agency. It was never supposed to, here.
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She shrugs and takes a sip of her tea. "I've been trying to keep an eye on her since she was released. That was part of the reason I put her to work; she's somewhere where I can see her that way. I can't exactly say she's doing okay right now, because no one is 'okay' after something like that, but she's coping. She's a strong woman." Not that she expected anything less from Gwen. Frankly, she kind of envies that strength. Not many people are able to remain empathetic to the troubles of others in the face of their own tragedies the way Gwen does. Mio certainly can't, although she's learned to do a good job of faking it, over the years.
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Of course, he's not expecting to hear much of that bad news from Mio, even if he is asking her. Working for Torchwood at all seems to mean you become incapable of communicating your own needs and emotions, if you were at all capable before. Jack's perfectly aware that some of it is selection bias, but given Gwen...
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"I think I slept for the better part of two weeks after Iris died. There didn't seem to be any point in trying to fight my body anymore . I would wake up for a few hours every day, eat, and try to get some work done before falling back asleep. It's only been in the past few days that I've gotten back to anywhere near something resembling normal...physically at least. Psychically, well...at least the rebound headaches have eased up now."
Jack may note that while Mio has said quite a bit about how she's been, she's said practically nothing on the topic of her needs or her emotions. But hey, it's still a whole hell of a lot more than she's told most people, and a hell of a lot more than she'd have told him a few months ago.
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