Season of Mists, Part Three: Old Gods
Title: Season of Mists, Part Three: Old Gods
Author: lookninjas aka ninjasnano
Beta(s): tearoseandhoney, ambiguous_opal
Artist/Fanmixer: enkanowen
Character/Pairing(s): Gwen, Rhys, Andy, John Hart, Jack Harkness, Archie, Dr. Simon Tau
Rating: R
Word Count: 7,452
Warnings: Spoilers for Children of Earth. Character death, experimenting on human subjects, briefly and clinically described torture.
Disclaimer: I do not own copyright to Torchwood, Dr. Who, or Neil Gaiman's the Sandman, and make no claim to them. This story is for entertainment only, and I make no profit from this.
Author's Note(s): Although this story references (and borrows a character from) Neil Gaiman's the Sandman, you don't need to be at all familiar with Sandman canon to understand the story. It would help, however, to have seen Dr. Who's The Sound of Drums and Last of the Time Lords.
Summary: In which many things are discussed, including love, death, family, sanity, and a ship called the Valiant.
File: JH 7172
Report: Time Agency
Very little is known about the Time Agency; what there is is strictly hearsay. According to comments made by Agents Captain Jack Harkness [see File: JH 7172; Report: Subject Background, post 21st-Century] and Captain John Hart [see File: JH 8494, Report: Subject Overview], the Time Agency will be active during the 51st century. It will be disbanded, presumably during the same century. It will employ humans (and perhaps other species) as Time Agents.
The purpose of the Time Agency is unknown. The duties of Time Agents are unknown.
All Time Agents appear to carry a Vortex Manipulator [see File: JH 7172, Report: Vortex Manipulator]. This device allows the wearer to teleport through time and space, as well as communicate with others who also carry Vortex Manipulators. Although little is known about the technology that powers these devices, they emit a distinctive energy signature, similar in many regards to that of the TARDIS [see File: TS 1210, Report: TARDIS]. The Shield Program's sensor array is capable of detecting Vortex energy anywhere within a two-mile radius of the facility. Should the Shield Program indicate the use of either of a Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS within this range, lockdown protocols are to be immediately engaged, and only lifted when Security has examined the Facility and the surrounding area, and judged that all is secure. Should a Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS be used to enter the Facility itself, Security is to converge on the area where Vortex energy was detected, and from there spread out to sweep the building and outlying area. The Facility itself will remain in lockdown until the user of the Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS has been located and secured, or until such time as the area is deemed clear of all threats.
*
She couldn't say just why she'd come back, what she'd expected to find. But she'd done it anyway, creeping through the rubble, trying to ignore the carnage -- half a child's doll, spattered in blood; an overturned cooking pot; a long, black braid, mercifully severed from the head that had worn it -- to find her friends' bodies, surrounded by men in black uniforms.
She ducked quickly behind a shattered wall, glancing at the sky. No gleaming metal balls, bobbing above her; no eerie, childlike laughter. Small comfort. There were still the men in black uniforms to be contended with. They stood, strangely silent, staring down at something in the dirt. Someone in the dirt.
Then there was the sound of a breath being drawn -- not quick and sharp, the way Jack gasped when he came back to life, but a long, slow sigh. The men in black crouched down, and for just a moment, Gwen thought she saw someone standing in the distance, someone dressed all in white...
Then they were back on the ship again, her and Ianto and the woman in red, who was no longer Captain Hart but someone else, someone Gwen recognized, although she couldn't have said how. Red lips, red dress, long blonde hair. Mad eyes. "I won't let you stop me," Gwen said. Her stance was strong, and the gun felt right in her hands. "We're taking him home and I won't let you stop me."
"Go ahead," the woman in red said, laughing. It was such a strange sound, such a hollow sound. It reverberated unpleasantly against Gwen's bones. Behind her, she could hear Ianto breathing -- not quick and sharp, the way Jack gasped when he came back to life, but long, slow sighs. Over and over again, and always the same. "Go ahead and take him -- it won't matter. He isn't yours anymore. He's ours. Our freak."
"He's not a freak!" Gwen said, tightening her grip on the gun.
"He is now," the woman said, and laughed again, laughing and laughing. Even when Gwen fired the gun and the woman dissolved, she could still hear that laughter, following her down the metal corridors of this ship that never seemed to end, following her and Ianto as they ran and ran.
A gunshot rang out. Gwen tried to turn around, to make sure Ianto was all right, but her spine was numb and she couldn't stand and she --
Gwen woke up with a gasp, eyes snapping open. She wasn't entirely sure where she was, and for a few moments it almost seemed like she was still... she was...
She couldn't remember.
She closed her eyes, just for a second, to collect herself, then sat up, the scratchy wool blanket falling away from her as she did. This wasn't her own bed, then, but a cot, narrow and not exactly comfortable. Archie's cot, in Archie's flat. Glasgow.
Ianto.
Small wonder she was having nightmares, really.
Gwen gingerly swung her legs over and off the side of the cot, careful not to tip it -- it wasn't the sturdiest bed she'd ever slept in, amazing she'd slept at all, really. Her duffel bag was near the door, and she pulled out a change of clothes. It was early yet, judging by the dim light coming in from the room's one tiny window, but she could hear soft voices coming from somewhere else in the flat. Jack, talking to someone.
Jack was there, finally. That had to count for something.
When she opened the door, Archie's cat slid through, padding briskly across the floor and then leapt onto the cot, curling up and watching Gwen with inscrutable eyes. She couldn't tell if there was something uncanny about the cat itself, or about the way these past few days had gone. Then again, it didn't much matter. She didn't really have time for pondering.
She stepped out into the hallway, leaving the door open in case the cat decided she had things to do elsewhere in the apartment, and made her way towards the living room.
"-- anything about the Valiant?" Jack glanced over his shoulder at her as she entered the room. There was something about his expression -- it reminded her of the way he'd been when he'd first come back to them, the way he'd closed down so thoroughly anytime she tried to get him to talk about where he'd been, what he'd done.
Archie was standing just in front of the beaded curtain, a mug in one hand, his cane in the other. He nodded at Gwen. "There's tea, if you like. Or coffee, though I can't tell you how drinkable it might be, as I don't, myself." He didn't move out of the way; Gwen had to brush past him as she navigated her way into the kitchen. It was tiny, just a small stove, refrigerator, and a few cupboards. Andy was hovering just inside the curtain, a cup in his hands; he nodded to her, but didn't say anything. Eavesdropping, probably. Gwen smiled at him as she passed.
In the living room, Jack and Archie were still talking, as if she couldn't hear them through the beaded curtain. "--transport ship, something like that? Aircraft carrier, maybe. I'm fair certain Saxon designed it; remember reading about it when I decided he needed more looking into."
Gwen spilled coffee crystals onto the countertop; cursing under her breath, she hastily brushed them into her palm. Unable to locate a bin, she settled for dropping them into the sink, then running the water a bit to rinse away all the evidence. Andy gave her a worried frown, and she smiled at him again, trying for reassurance. All she got in response was a raised eyebrow.
"-- files, but they're not in here," Jack was saying.
"Well, the good doctor did say that there was quite a bit more information on you than there was for the others. He may have had to be selective about what he chose to bring with him. Or he may not have access to all of it."
"Or he's hiding something." Jack's voice was grim. When Gwen pushed her way through the curtain and past Archie, Andy trailing in her wake, she could see that he was still scowling.
"You could ask him," she suggested, and was rewarded by Jack's raised eyebrow and Archie's slight smirk. "You said yourself that he's not much of a liar."
"You could ask him," Jack retorted. "You've always done well with interrogations."
Gwen didn't respond to that, although she suspected she'd gleaned enough from what she'd overheard of Jack and Archie's conversation to do just that. From the look on Andy's face, he didn't think it was such a bad idea. Maybe it wasn't. "So," she said, standing over Jack and taking a sip of her coffee -- she'd loaded it with milk and sugar to disguise the taste, and had done too good a job of it -- "do we not trust Dr. Tau, then? Only I thought we did last night, and it's a bit confusing if we keep changing our minds like this."
Jack quickly gathered the scattered sheets of paper from the sofa, stuffing them into his file. Not even bothering to hide that he was hiding things, then. "You've read his file. What do you think?"
She had read his file, at that. Only child, parents obscenely wealthy, the best education money could buy, apparently with the intelligence to back it up. Had gotten into the Project via his research on premature aging, genetic disorders that left seven-year-olds looking seventy. It hadn't told her much. The picture of him standing next to a wrinkled, bird-faced child (probably a girl, judging by the clothing), squinting into the camera with a decidedly uncomfortable air, had said a good deal more. "I do trust him, actually. But then, I'm too trusting, aren't I?"
"Or I'm too paranoid," Jack said. It had the air of a confession. Relenting slightly, Gwen sat down next to him. "You get ... used to it," he continued, his voice quiet, almost intimate. "Knowing that you can only hold onto someone for a little while, that, sooner or later, you'll lose them. And they won't come back. To have to believe that there's someone who can come back, it's..."
"Eggs, I think." Blinking, Gwen could only stare at Archie. "And sausage. Perhaps also toast." Then he turned and vanished into the kitchen.
"I'll... er... just go and..." The curtain rattled as Andy raced through it.
When Gwen looked back at Jack, he was smiling. It didn't meet his eyes. "Rather French farce of them, wasn't it?" she asked, as lightly as she could manage. But it wasn't enough. Sighing, she reached out, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. Funny, she'd had this conversation, or one quite a bit like it, with Ianto once. "It's all right, Jack."
"I did this to him."
"You don't know that," Gwen reminded him.
"I just wanted..." Jack sighed. "But I didn't really think it would work. It never has before."
There really wasn't anything Gwen could say to that. She couldn't help filing it away, though, even knowing that she shouldn't. "I'm sorry."
Jack shrugged. "Not your fault." Gwen wanted to tell him, although she knew she couldn't say for sure, that it wasn't his either. But then, he wouldn't believe her anyway. She settled for sipping her coffee; it really was far too sweet. She made a face.
Jack let out a short laugh, holding up his own mug as though for a toast. "You too, huh?" Changing the subject, lightening the tone. Sometimes she knew Jack a bit too well.
"Tell me you're not getting Ianto back just for the hot drinks," she said, going along with it.
His face fell. "Honestly? I don't care if he makes another cup of coffee in his life. I don't care if he never comes back to us. I just... I just want him safe."
"I know," Gwen said. She knew she ought to agree, but again, she couldn't. It wasn't true. She wanted Ianto safe, and she'd live with it if he decided that he'd finally had enough of all that Torchwood put him through, but to have him turn away just when she'd finally gotten him back... the thought was too cruel. So she put it away, firmly, and told herself that he would come back. Because he had to.
Jack was still looking at her, head slightly cocked, as if he was reading her expressions. "Yeah," he said, quietly. Sometimes, she and Jack knew each other a bit too well. Then he patted her on the shoulder and stood. "Drink up," he said. "You've got a busy day."
*
File: JH 7172
Report: Vortex Manipulator
A Vortex Manipulator is a device, typically worn about the wrist, which allows the wearer to teleport through space and time. It may also serve as a kind of communications device. Other uses are unknown.
Vortex Manipulators are chiefly used by Time Agents [see File: JH 7172, Report: Time Agency] in the commission of their duties, at least in this time period, although they may be in more common use by the 51st century. At the present time, the only Vortex Manipulators known to exist belong to Captain Jack Harkness [see File: JH 7172; Report: Subject Overview] and Captain John Hart [see File: JH 8494].
It is worth noting that there is at least one instance where a Vortex Manipulator has been used by a person who was not the original owner [see Valiant File: Jones, M]. This suggests that they can be transferred from one user to another, and perhaps taken by force. Regardless, anyone in possession of a Vortex Manipulator is to be treated as extremely dangerous -- subdued if possible, terminated if necessary, avoided if there are no other options. [Note: The Valiant Files are not to be treated as historical fact. There is no reliable record of a Vortex Manipulator being taken from its owner by force or any other means.]
Due to their ability to manipulate the space-time vortex, Vortex Manipulators emit a distinctive energy signature, similar to that of the TARDIS [see File: TS1210; Report: TARDIS]. The Shield Program's sensor array is capable of detecting Vortex energy anywhere within a two-mile radius of the facility. Should the Shield Program indicate the use of either of a Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS within this range, lockdown protocols are to be immediately engaged, and only lifted when Security has examined the Facility and the surrounding area, and judged that all is secure. Should a Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS be used to enter the Facility itself, Security is to converge on the area where Vortex energy was detected, and from there spread out to sweep the building and outlying area. The Facility itself will remain in lockdown until the user of the Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS has been located and secured, or until such time as the area is deemed clear of all threats.
*
"So," Rhys said, his voice a bit crackly over the line; the reception here wasn't brilliant. "How's... how's everything, then?"
One thing about Rhys; he'd learned the hard way how to be cautious, how not to talk about things. Sometimes it was hard to believe that she'd ever felt she couldn't trust him. "I haven't been able to get in to see Gran, yet. But I've talked to one of her doctors, and we're hopeful."
"Good, good." Silence, then; Rhys casting about for the best way to play along with her story. Gwen leaned back against the wall of the Indian takeaway, jamming her free hand in her pocket. She couldn't help feeling like she was being watched, couldn't stop looking about her, just in case. A floppy-haired bloke in a ridiculous bowtie nodded at her as he went into the takeaway; no one else seemed to be paying her any mind. "Is he... is he a good sort, this doctor?"
"Seems so, yeah," Gwen said. "I think he's doing everything he can. Anyway, how is everything? Did you find someone to take Eddie today, or did you stay home?"
"Oh, I took some of my leave days; thought it would be best. Eddie and me had a proper lad's day out, we did."
"Bet you did. Took him to the pub, did you? Watched the rugby?"
"Girls, gambling... it was very wild," Rhys said. "Well, there was a girl, anyway. Gave Eddie her shovel at the playground, then got upset when he started chewing on it and threw a wobbly. Couldn't have been more than three."
"An older woman?" Gwen smiled; the smile faded as a gold sedan (practical, like Ianto's old Audi), pulled up to the curb, and Dr. Tau got out. He walked past without seeming to see her, straight into the takeaway. She wasn't sure whether or not to be relieved by that. "Rhys, I'm appalled."
"Yes, it was all very scandalous." There was a clatter in the background, pots and pans. "Oh for the love of -- Sorry, darling, he's got into the cupboards again."
"He'll do that," she said. Funny thing; even though she couldn't help but laugh as Eddie banged and Rhys tried not to swear, her eyes prickled just a little bit.
"Bloody --" Rhys was drowned out by the sound of metal banging against their hardwood floors; Gwen could just barely hear her son's laughter rising above the din. Her eyes started to water, and she wiped them with the back of her hand.
"Should I let you go, love? Sounds like you've got your hands full."
"Yeah, it's a bit... Sorry, love, but I do have to --"
"All right. Give Eddie a kiss for me."
The clanging stopped -- it was just Eddie's laughter, and then Rhys again. "Done it now, and I'll do it again at bedtime, if you like."
Dr. Tau walked out of the takeway, arms laden with bags. He gave Gwen a slight, barely perceptible nod, and she followed him to his car, a few steps behind. "As often as you can. I love you."
"I love you, too. Let me know how things are going with Gran."
"As soon as there's any news." She slid into the passenger side of the car; the door was barely shut before they were moving down the road. "Bye, sweetheart."
"Bye."
Gwen had to close her eyes and brace herself before hanging up the call.
"I'm sorry," Dr. Tau said. She knew she should look at him, but wasn't quite steady enough to do it, not just yet. "For pulling you away from them, I mean. It must be very hard."
"It's all right," she said, finally opening her eyes, staring out the window. There was a flash of blue as they whizzed down the street -- another police box, maybe? Glasgow seemed to be littered with them. "It's what I do."
"He must be very proud of you." There was something a bit wistful about Dr. Tau's voice, then. Gwen turned, studied his profile. He was very young. Too young, really. Hard to believe he was even really a doctor at all.
"Do you talk to them anymore?" she asked. He glanced at her, puzzled. "Your parents, I mean. Do you see them, or anything?"
His face fell. "Ah," he said, his attention returning to the road. "No. Not really. I tried, at first, but... there was always too much I couldn't say. And it felt like... The Project wouldn't... do anything to them, not unless it was absolutely necessary. But it was too much of a chance to take."
Gwen nodded. "I know the feeling."
The faintest hint of a smile crossed Simon's face. It was gone almost as soon as it had come. "I know," he said, quietly. There was a long silence, not altogether uncomfortable. "He asks about you. Mr. Jones, I mean. You and your husband. If you survived what happened with the 456, if you had your child, if you're still with Torchwood. I can't really tell him anything; we're really not supposed to talk at all, but... I do what I can."
"Thank you." Simon glanced at her, a dubious expression on his face. Like she'd been taking the mickey. "Thank you for taking care of him, for so long."
"I don't --" He shook his head, apparently struggling with the words. "I keep him healthy. It's better for the experiments if he's healthy. It's nothing..."
"But you talk to him," Gwen said. "You do more than just making sure he's not ill. Or you wouldn't be here right now." Simon didn't say anything to that, so she pressed on. "When did you decide you needed to get him out of there?"
"Honestly?" There was something a little heartbreaking in the sidelong glance he gave her. "He came to in the ambulance, on the way to the Facility, and for just a second, there was this look on his face... I'd never seen that, before. Someone realizing that they're trapped, and there's nothing they can do to get out. And I'd done that to him."
Gwen patted his arm. "And now you're setting him free."
Simon shook his head again. "It doesn't make up for it."
"No," Gwen agreed. "But it's a start."
*
File: JH 7172
Report: Subject Overview
JH 7172 is male, presumably human or mostly human, height 6' 1", weight approximately 200 lbs. Appears to be in his mid- to late-thirties; actual age impossible to tell. JH 7172 claims to hail from another planet, name unknown. He also claims to be from the 51st century. Neither of these claims can be proven, but both are generally believed to be true.
Although JH 7172 has gone by the name "Captain Jack Harkness" since his earliest mentions in the historical record, this name is an alias. His true name is unknown.
JH 7172 was once a member of the Time Agency [see File: JH 7172, Report: Time Agency], and knew Captain John Hart at that time [see File: JH 8494]. He still carries a Vortex Manipulator [see File: JH 7172, Report: Vortex Manipulator]. He also is a known companion of the Doctor [see File: TS 1210, Report: Companions] and has travelled through time using both the Vortex Manipulator and the Doctor's Tardis [see File: TS 1210, Report: TARDIS].
Due to his time travelling abilities, it is impossible to ascertain when JH 7172 first arrived on Earth. Reports suggest that he has been present on Earth both before he developed the ability to come back from a state of apparent death and afterwards [see File: JH 7172; Report: History (pre-resurrection) and File: JH 7172; Report: History (late 19th century)].
It is not known how JH 7172 developed the ability to come back from a state of apparent death; he has made statements to witness stating that it occurred during his initial travels with the Doctor, and that he hoped the Doctor could "fix it" [see File: JH 7172; Report: Torchwood Records (late 19th century)]. His later encounters with the Doctor have produced no noticeable difference in resurrection ability, suggesting that this is a permanent state. Although his resurrection abilities have never been studied in a scientific setting [DISPUTED; see the Valiant Files for further information] [NOTE: Given timeline discrepencies and lack of supporting documentation, the events described in the Valiant Files cannot be accepted as fact; the files themselves may remain part of the records on JH 7172, but this should NOT be construed as a support for their veracity.], they have been so widely observed and well recorded as to make JH 7172 the first and best-known example of the Lazarus Effect.
[Note: Commentary has been left in the preceding paragraph not to verify or cast doubt upon the Valiant Files, but to show that they are still a topic of debate in the community. Further discussion of the topic will be stricken from this report as unnecessary.]
*
As he had the night before, Jack waited until Simon was pulling his coat on before finally opening his mouth to ask a question. "How... how is he?" Gwen laid her hand over Jack's in instinctive sympathy. It couldn't be easy, what he was going through.
Simon hesitated, fingers wrapped tight around his own lapels. "He's..." The doctor ran one hand through his hair, messing it. "It's impossible to say. Physically, he's... weaker. The senior medical staff did finally allow me to return him to a more normal diet, and there is some exercise, but it's very limited, and he has to be sedated before I can remove him from restraints. I've attempted to wean him off the drugs as much as I possibly can without attracting notice, and I'll be giving him a stimulant before we attempt to move him, but --"
"What kinds of drugs are we talking about, here?" Jack asked, jaw tightening slightly.
"Ketamine, MDMA, and clonazepam." Simon took a deep breath before pressing on. "He's lucid, for the most part, and the balance issues haven't been too terrible, but there are lapses, and it's possible that in a situation of stress, he'll --"
"Lapses," Jack said. Gwen could feel him trembling with suppressed anger. "You should probably explain that."
Simon straightened, looking down at them all. After a moment, he sighed, stripped his coat off, and sat back down, leaning forward and looking Jack dead in the eye. "There are times when he doesn't seem to recognize where he is, or when it is. There's a ship; he mentions it from time to time, that he's still on the ship."
Jack drew in a sharp breath, let it out slowly. "The Valiant?" There was something dark and dangerous in his voice. Gwen tightened her grip on his hand, as if she could really hope to hold him back.
"I..." Simon looked more confused than frightened. "I couldn't say. He never refers to the ship by name; I don't know if it has one, or if it does and he doesn't know it. Is that... The Valiant, I mean, it's a ship?"
"You don't know." It wasn't a question.
"I've seen references to the Valiant, in your files, but the Valiant Files themselves are highly classified. Most of the senior staff say that they're completely made-up, just a work of fiction." There was something eager in the doctor's eyes, suppressed, but still there. "They're real, though?"
"It doesn't matter," Jack said, hastily. He leaned back, as if afraid of revealing something just by being too close to the doctor. "So. Ianto is weak, his balance is shot, and he could very well be delusional. Given the situation, it almost seems like we'd be better off strapping him to a gurney and just wheeling him out without ever waking him up."
Simon frowned; Gwen wondered if it was because of Jack's (almost certainly intentional) cruelty, or because the subject had been so completely changed. "He's... I probably don't need to tell you this, but he's a very controlled person, very restrained. It bothers him that there are times when he... when his perceptions of reality no longer conform to what's actually happening. If he were to wake up, outside of the facility, surrounded by people he hasn't seen for years, he will almost certainly assume that he's delusional, and that none of it is real. Considering his family history --" Jack flinched at that -- "he might very well conclude that he is now permanently insane. I'm reasonably confident that between the six of us, we can convince him that that is not the case. But I personally would rather not put him through that unless it's absolutely necessary. If we can get him out on his feet, moving more or less under his own power, and aware of what's happening at all times, I think that would be for the best."
Jack hmphed softly. "You're taking a chance there, Doctor."
"I know." Simon shrugged. "But I've been taking a lot of chances, lately." Jack didn't quite smile at that. "Also, it's almost certain that we'll have to fight our way free. Even if Captain Hart manages to distract most of the guards --" Captain Hart smiled and tipped off a little salute, clearly pleased at the notice, "-- some of them will mobilize to protect the Subject. Or Subjects, as the case may be." Gwen couldn't help but smile at him. "If one of us were tied up carrying him, or wheeling the gurney or chair, or..."
"Point taken. We'll need all available hands." Jack glanced over at Andy, who'd been rather conspicuously silent through most of the evening. "Think you'll be ready?"
Andy didn't answer; Captain Hart seemed more than ready to speak for him, though. "He'll do fine," he said, not even bothering to hide his leer, and Andy blushed scarlet. "Very apt pupil. Fast learner. Steady hands. And a good, firm --"
"That's enough," Gwen said, quickly.
Captain Hart smirked. "Our Dr. Tau here is also a capable shot, when he chooses to fire off a round," he said. Simon looked down at his hands.
Jack watched him, head cocked to one side. "If you're right about this, Doctor, you're probably going to have to shoot people, maybe kill them. Are you prepared for that?"
"Were you, your first time?" Jack shut his mouth with an audible snap, and Simon looked up at him, face composed. "It's safe to say, Captain Harkness, that I'm not prepared for what's going to happen tomorrow. That none of us are prepared for it. But we'll do what we have to, won't we?"
Simon stood abruptly, gathering his coat. This time, Jack didn't try to stop him for one last question.
Once Simon had gotten his coat and scarf on, gathered up his blueprints, and unlocked the door, he turned back of his own volition. "I'll see you all at the hospital tomorrow," he said. "I..." But whatever he was about to say, a last word of advice or reassurance or a simple "Good luck," it died before reaching his lips, and he left the flat without another word to any of them.
*
File: TS 1210
Report: Subject Overview
TS 1210 is an alien lifeform known commonly as the Doctor. He has apparently taken on several different forms. These forms differ greatly in appearance, but have all appeared to be human and male. These forms demonstrate a wide variance in apparent age -- TS 1210's actual age is unknown. His actual species and planet of origin are unknown.
It is suggested that TS 1210 is capable of regenerating into a different form at the moment of death, thus prolonging his life if not effecting a kind of immortality. It is also suggested that the new regenerations retain the memories of the old, although the personality is somewhat changed. This has never been tested, and therefore cannot be proven.
TS 1210 travels through space and time in a device known as the TARDIS [see Report: TARDIS].The appearance of the TARDIS is not known; reports suggest it is equipped with a device known as a Perception Filter, which hides it from notice. When in use, the TARDIS may give off a brief spike of Vortex Energy, similar to that of a Vortex Manipulator, thus allowing it to be detected [see File: JH 7172, Report: Vortex Manipulator].
TS 1210 often travels in the company of one or more persons, generally human. JH 7172 is known to have travelled with him, and has made statements linking his own resurrection abilities to his time with TS 1210 [see File: JH 7172, Reports: Subject Overview and History (19th Century)]. It is not known whether or not this is true.
TS 1210 has been named as an enemy to the Crown, and was declared a Public Menace by Prime Minister Harold Saxon. The Torchwood Institute was originally founded, in part, to capture/contain him, although this was later stricken from its charter [see File: JH 7172, History (21st Century)]. He is to be considered exceptionally dangerous, and contact with him is to be avoided at all costs. Should he be suspected to have infiltrated the Facility, all non-essential personnel are to evacuate at once. Remaining personnel will be given instructions at that time.
[Note: a more detailed report on the Doctor can be found in the Valiant Files. Given that the files themselves are considered to be of disputable accuracy, none of the information provided therein has been reproduced here.]
*
Gwen laid on the cot until long after Archie's flat had fallen silent around her. She'd never really done this before. Most of her missions with Torchwood had happened at the spur of the moment, rushing out to meet the danger with no time to think about what could go wrong. That was how she liked it. Waiting like this was too hard. Too much to worry about.
A bare handful of hours from now, she'd be back on the streets of Glasgow, wandering around with naught but her UNIT badge and her Torchwood-issued handgun to protect her. Assuming that Captain Hart was honestly trying to help them, and that he wasn't betrayed or somehow captured himself, he'd come and poison her. Assuming that Dr. Tau was telling the truth about the drug he'd concocted for this adventure, she'd wake up an hour later. Assuming that she'd done her job and been noticeable enough, and that Dr. Tau had done his job and not been so noticeable that the Project became suspicious of him, he would come in an ambulance, collect Jack and Andy, subdue the guards that had travelled with them, and whisk Gwen off to the Facility. At which point, they would still have to gain access to the building, find Ianto, and hope that Captain Hart's distraction would divert the majority of the guards away from them long enough for them to get out again.
Far, far too many assumptions. Nor could she really trust Captain Hart, or Dr.Tau, for that matter. Captain Hart had always been able to lie with sincerity, and she didn't really know anything about the doctor. She trusted Jack (most of the time), and she knew Andy wouldn't betray her, but that certainly wasn't enough to make her feel safe.
And as long as she didn't feel safe, she wasn't going to be able to sleep.
After staring at the ceiling a bit longer, she gave up, pushed herself up off the cot and padded to the door of her room. A cup of tea would be ideal, but the flat was too small and she didn't want to wake anyone who'd managed to get sleep where she couldn't. But she thought she could just about manage to get a glass of water without too much noise.
When she tiptoed out into the main room of the flat, there was a breeze coming through, cold and damp, and she shivered in her t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. Someone was out on the fire escape; she heard a voice, speaking softly. Instinctively, she crept towards it, glancing about her. In the dim light, she could just make out Andy on the sofa, fidgeting, childlike, in his sleep. Archie was most likely in his bedroom. That left Jack, or Captain Hart.
"Absolutely not," the voice said, and it was definitely Captain Hart. Gwen tucked herself into the shadow of a bookcase, wishing she could press herself a bit closer to it without risking the artefacts perched on its shelves. "No, look, I've told you a thousand times. It's bad enough you're crossing your own timeline. Honestly, are you trying to destroy the universe?" There was no answer that Gwen could hear. Mobile phone, probably. Or the wrist strap, although the one time she'd seen him use it to communicate, there'd been glowing holograms and such involved, and it was obvious he was trying to keep this quiet. "And if he saw you, he'd kill you first and ask questions later, only there wouldn't be a later, because it would destroy the bloody universe." His voice raised a bit on the last words, and Andy stirred. "We're sticking to the plan," Captain Hart said, and his voice was much quieter this time. "I know it's hard for you, but just be a good boy and do what you're told. It'll all be over soon." More silence, and then he sighed. "I'll see what I can do. But I can't just vanish; no one here trusts me as it is. I'll try, all right? Just do your job, for once. All right." More silence. "All right. Get some rest." She heard the sound of a mobile flipping shut, and then silence again.
She was just wondering if she ought to go back to bed, if she ought to try and find Jack, and if she really was being an absolute idiot in trusting Captain Hart again, after everything he'd done to them, when she heard his voice. "Might as well come out, Gwen." She only hesitated a moment longer before stepping out of the protective shadow of the bookshelf, through the open window, and onto the fire escape where he stood. The metal grate was freezing under her feet, and she would have given anything to be back home. "Impressive, though. I almost didn't know you were there. Almost."
"How did you know?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself as she studied him. His face was completely serious; impassive, almost.
He shrugged. "That's not what you came out here to ask me."
She raised her eyebrows, but he just looked back at her, calm as could be. "So. Who was that, then?"
"An old friend," he replied, turning to lean on the metal railing.
"An old friend who's crossing his own timeline?" Gwen had been around time-travelers long enough to know what that meant.
Captain Hart tapped his wrist strap. "Hazards of the job."
"The Time Agency?" Gwen's voice got a bit too loud, there, and Andy stirred again. Captain Hart turned, giving her a warning glance. "Sorry," Gwen said, dropping back down to a whisper, although she wasn't sure why. She had no reason to trust Captain Hart, after all, and every reason to wake the others up and have them help force the truth out of him. "But I thought... You told Jack..."
"It's the Time Agency, Gwen," he said, rather scornfully. "Yes, when I travelled back through the Rift the first time, they had disbanded. But this is a good decade before that, at least for them. Honestly, what linear time does to people."
She tried to wrap her head around that one, but gave it up as a bad job. "So you're working for them?" she asked, drifting to stand beside him, leaning against the railing like he did.
He glanced at her, sidelong, but she pretended to be staring at the skyline. "Like I said, I'm helping an old friend. Well, trying to keep him from blowing up the universe, at least. Not that he's grateful." He sighed. "Now he wants to be more involved. First he wanted to run away, and now he wants to be more involved. I think he's just hoping he'll get to shag himself, truthfully. He always was fixated on that."
Somehow, and she wasn't sure what it said about her (or Jack, really), that was the clue that Gwen had needed. "Jack? You were talking to Jack?"
"I got a message from him, after that complete and total cock-up with the 456. Said he'd gotten himself into a mess, and needed me to get him out of it. I thought... Well, dead boyfriend and all, the man was bound to be depressed. Thought I'd take him around the galaxy for a bit, finally remind him who he was and what he's supposed to be like. Then I got here, and it wasn't the same Jack at all. It was mine. From the old days. In a very, very, literal fashion." He glanced at her. "Is that enough, or do I need to put it into smaller words?"
Gwen would have been irritated, but she was too busy trying to sort things out. "But why is he here? What's he doing?"
Captain Hart shrugged. "Same thing we are. Save the Teaboy, save the world. Or something like that. Problem is, in figuring out how best to save Ianto Jones, my Jack had to do a little bit of research into just who Ianto Jones was. Which led to him finding out about your Jack, which led to all sorts of trouble. See, Time Agents aren't supposed to be sent on missions where they wind up encountering their future selves. Leads to all sorts of problems. When my Jack realized that he was going to turn into your Jack, he realized that, at best, he was going to come out of this mission with a rather large hole in his memory. And that, Gwen Cooper, scared the shit out of him. So he called me."
"I don't understand," Gwen said, frowning. "If Time Agents aren't supposed to encounter their future selves --"
"Except that Jack is supposed to lose his memory." Captain Hart shook his head. "Don't tell me he hasn't told you about it. One of the first things he said when he saw me again. The Time Agency stole two years of his memory. That's why he left them. If he doesn't leave, he doesn't meet the Doctor. If he doesn't meet the Doctor, he doesn't become immortal. If he doesn't become immortal --"
"Reapers," Gwen finished.
Captain Hart turned to look at her then, his eyes lost in shadow, his voice quiet and deadly serious. "Worse than that, Gwen. Too many timelines depend on Jack Harkness's continued presence in the world, not just now but all through time -- the past, the future, all of it comes down to him. Without him, Time will collapse in on itself. He's not a fixed point. He's the lynchpin. He's holding it all up."
For a long time, Gwen could just stare at Captain Hart, trying to make sense of it. "And he was still going to run away?" she asked.
Another shrug, and Captain Hart turned back to stare at the skyline. "He was always a selfish bastard," Captain Hart said. "I think he figured that he could just run away and someone else would take his place. Ianto, maybe; after all, the poor bloke's immortal now, or close enough for government work. Unfortunately, it rather looks as though Ianto wouldn't be immortal at all if it weren't for his beloved Captain. And even if Jack's got nothing to do with it... Well. I'm as big a fan of Eye Candy as anyone else, but he and Jack are two very different people, bound to make different choices. You can't just swap him into Jack's place and hope that everything stays the same."
Gwen shivered, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. The stakes had been high to start with, but this... She felt fabric settling over her shoulders, and looked up to see Captain Hart draping his red coat around her. "Bit much to take in, isn't it?" he asked. "So you can see why you wouldn't want to bring this up to Jack. He's not as selfish as he used to be, I'll grant you that, but I'm not sure he wouldn't try to wiggle his way out of this somehow. Well, and it's not like his life has been that easy. I'd try to dodge it too."
"Your Jack's not going to be at the Facility, is he?" Gwen asked, feeling her hands tighten on the wool of John's coat, pulling it tighter around herself.
"He'll be well away by the time we get there," John said, but he sounded a bit uncertain. "And if he's not, well... Try not to let your Jack shoot mine. Mine can still die. And try not to let anyone else shoot him either. I know Eye Candy would still take a bullet for him, but he's bound to be a bit confused, so it might be up to you. Hopefully not, but... end of the universe and all."
It was flip enough, but there was nothing casual in the way John looked at her when he said it. "I'll do what I have to," she said.
"I know you will," John said. His hand rested, briefly, on his shoulder. "You were a good team," he added. "I was a little bit jealous, really. Never any good at inspiring that kind of loyalty."
"He's had more practice," Gwen said. Then she slipped out of the jacket and handed it back to him. "Goodnight, John."
"See you in the morning," he said, voice following her as she crawled back through the open window.
Author: lookninjas aka ninjasnano
Beta(s): tearoseandhoney, ambiguous_opal
Artist/Fanmixer: enkanowen
Character/Pairing(s): Gwen, Rhys, Andy, John Hart, Jack Harkness, Archie, Dr. Simon Tau
Rating: R
Word Count: 7,452
Warnings: Spoilers for Children of Earth. Character death, experimenting on human subjects, briefly and clinically described torture.
Disclaimer: I do not own copyright to Torchwood, Dr. Who, or Neil Gaiman's the Sandman, and make no claim to them. This story is for entertainment only, and I make no profit from this.
Author's Note(s): Although this story references (and borrows a character from) Neil Gaiman's the Sandman, you don't need to be at all familiar with Sandman canon to understand the story. It would help, however, to have seen Dr. Who's The Sound of Drums and Last of the Time Lords.
Summary: In which many things are discussed, including love, death, family, sanity, and a ship called the Valiant.
File: JH 7172
Report: Time Agency
Very little is known about the Time Agency; what there is is strictly hearsay. According to comments made by Agents Captain Jack Harkness [see File: JH 7172; Report: Subject Background, post 21st-Century] and Captain John Hart [see File: JH 8494, Report: Subject Overview], the Time Agency will be active during the 51st century. It will be disbanded, presumably during the same century. It will employ humans (and perhaps other species) as Time Agents.
The purpose of the Time Agency is unknown. The duties of Time Agents are unknown.
All Time Agents appear to carry a Vortex Manipulator [see File: JH 7172, Report: Vortex Manipulator]. This device allows the wearer to teleport through time and space, as well as communicate with others who also carry Vortex Manipulators. Although little is known about the technology that powers these devices, they emit a distinctive energy signature, similar in many regards to that of the TARDIS [see File: TS 1210, Report: TARDIS]. The Shield Program's sensor array is capable of detecting Vortex energy anywhere within a two-mile radius of the facility. Should the Shield Program indicate the use of either of a Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS within this range, lockdown protocols are to be immediately engaged, and only lifted when Security has examined the Facility and the surrounding area, and judged that all is secure. Should a Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS be used to enter the Facility itself, Security is to converge on the area where Vortex energy was detected, and from there spread out to sweep the building and outlying area. The Facility itself will remain in lockdown until the user of the Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS has been located and secured, or until such time as the area is deemed clear of all threats.
*
She couldn't say just why she'd come back, what she'd expected to find. But she'd done it anyway, creeping through the rubble, trying to ignore the carnage -- half a child's doll, spattered in blood; an overturned cooking pot; a long, black braid, mercifully severed from the head that had worn it -- to find her friends' bodies, surrounded by men in black uniforms.
She ducked quickly behind a shattered wall, glancing at the sky. No gleaming metal balls, bobbing above her; no eerie, childlike laughter. Small comfort. There were still the men in black uniforms to be contended with. They stood, strangely silent, staring down at something in the dirt. Someone in the dirt.
Then there was the sound of a breath being drawn -- not quick and sharp, the way Jack gasped when he came back to life, but a long, slow sigh. The men in black crouched down, and for just a moment, Gwen thought she saw someone standing in the distance, someone dressed all in white...
Then they were back on the ship again, her and Ianto and the woman in red, who was no longer Captain Hart but someone else, someone Gwen recognized, although she couldn't have said how. Red lips, red dress, long blonde hair. Mad eyes. "I won't let you stop me," Gwen said. Her stance was strong, and the gun felt right in her hands. "We're taking him home and I won't let you stop me."
"Go ahead," the woman in red said, laughing. It was such a strange sound, such a hollow sound. It reverberated unpleasantly against Gwen's bones. Behind her, she could hear Ianto breathing -- not quick and sharp, the way Jack gasped when he came back to life, but long, slow sighs. Over and over again, and always the same. "Go ahead and take him -- it won't matter. He isn't yours anymore. He's ours. Our freak."
"He's not a freak!" Gwen said, tightening her grip on the gun.
"He is now," the woman said, and laughed again, laughing and laughing. Even when Gwen fired the gun and the woman dissolved, she could still hear that laughter, following her down the metal corridors of this ship that never seemed to end, following her and Ianto as they ran and ran.
A gunshot rang out. Gwen tried to turn around, to make sure Ianto was all right, but her spine was numb and she couldn't stand and she --
Gwen woke up with a gasp, eyes snapping open. She wasn't entirely sure where she was, and for a few moments it almost seemed like she was still... she was...
She couldn't remember.
She closed her eyes, just for a second, to collect herself, then sat up, the scratchy wool blanket falling away from her as she did. This wasn't her own bed, then, but a cot, narrow and not exactly comfortable. Archie's cot, in Archie's flat. Glasgow.
Ianto.
Small wonder she was having nightmares, really.
Gwen gingerly swung her legs over and off the side of the cot, careful not to tip it -- it wasn't the sturdiest bed she'd ever slept in, amazing she'd slept at all, really. Her duffel bag was near the door, and she pulled out a change of clothes. It was early yet, judging by the dim light coming in from the room's one tiny window, but she could hear soft voices coming from somewhere else in the flat. Jack, talking to someone.
Jack was there, finally. That had to count for something.
When she opened the door, Archie's cat slid through, padding briskly across the floor and then leapt onto the cot, curling up and watching Gwen with inscrutable eyes. She couldn't tell if there was something uncanny about the cat itself, or about the way these past few days had gone. Then again, it didn't much matter. She didn't really have time for pondering.
She stepped out into the hallway, leaving the door open in case the cat decided she had things to do elsewhere in the apartment, and made her way towards the living room.
"-- anything about the Valiant?" Jack glanced over his shoulder at her as she entered the room. There was something about his expression -- it reminded her of the way he'd been when he'd first come back to them, the way he'd closed down so thoroughly anytime she tried to get him to talk about where he'd been, what he'd done.
Archie was standing just in front of the beaded curtain, a mug in one hand, his cane in the other. He nodded at Gwen. "There's tea, if you like. Or coffee, though I can't tell you how drinkable it might be, as I don't, myself." He didn't move out of the way; Gwen had to brush past him as she navigated her way into the kitchen. It was tiny, just a small stove, refrigerator, and a few cupboards. Andy was hovering just inside the curtain, a cup in his hands; he nodded to her, but didn't say anything. Eavesdropping, probably. Gwen smiled at him as she passed.
In the living room, Jack and Archie were still talking, as if she couldn't hear them through the beaded curtain. "--transport ship, something like that? Aircraft carrier, maybe. I'm fair certain Saxon designed it; remember reading about it when I decided he needed more looking into."
Gwen spilled coffee crystals onto the countertop; cursing under her breath, she hastily brushed them into her palm. Unable to locate a bin, she settled for dropping them into the sink, then running the water a bit to rinse away all the evidence. Andy gave her a worried frown, and she smiled at him again, trying for reassurance. All she got in response was a raised eyebrow.
"-- files, but they're not in here," Jack was saying.
"Well, the good doctor did say that there was quite a bit more information on you than there was for the others. He may have had to be selective about what he chose to bring with him. Or he may not have access to all of it."
"Or he's hiding something." Jack's voice was grim. When Gwen pushed her way through the curtain and past Archie, Andy trailing in her wake, she could see that he was still scowling.
"You could ask him," she suggested, and was rewarded by Jack's raised eyebrow and Archie's slight smirk. "You said yourself that he's not much of a liar."
"You could ask him," Jack retorted. "You've always done well with interrogations."
Gwen didn't respond to that, although she suspected she'd gleaned enough from what she'd overheard of Jack and Archie's conversation to do just that. From the look on Andy's face, he didn't think it was such a bad idea. Maybe it wasn't. "So," she said, standing over Jack and taking a sip of her coffee -- she'd loaded it with milk and sugar to disguise the taste, and had done too good a job of it -- "do we not trust Dr. Tau, then? Only I thought we did last night, and it's a bit confusing if we keep changing our minds like this."
Jack quickly gathered the scattered sheets of paper from the sofa, stuffing them into his file. Not even bothering to hide that he was hiding things, then. "You've read his file. What do you think?"
She had read his file, at that. Only child, parents obscenely wealthy, the best education money could buy, apparently with the intelligence to back it up. Had gotten into the Project via his research on premature aging, genetic disorders that left seven-year-olds looking seventy. It hadn't told her much. The picture of him standing next to a wrinkled, bird-faced child (probably a girl, judging by the clothing), squinting into the camera with a decidedly uncomfortable air, had said a good deal more. "I do trust him, actually. But then, I'm too trusting, aren't I?"
"Or I'm too paranoid," Jack said. It had the air of a confession. Relenting slightly, Gwen sat down next to him. "You get ... used to it," he continued, his voice quiet, almost intimate. "Knowing that you can only hold onto someone for a little while, that, sooner or later, you'll lose them. And they won't come back. To have to believe that there's someone who can come back, it's..."
"Eggs, I think." Blinking, Gwen could only stare at Archie. "And sausage. Perhaps also toast." Then he turned and vanished into the kitchen.
"I'll... er... just go and..." The curtain rattled as Andy raced through it.
When Gwen looked back at Jack, he was smiling. It didn't meet his eyes. "Rather French farce of them, wasn't it?" she asked, as lightly as she could manage. But it wasn't enough. Sighing, she reached out, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. Funny, she'd had this conversation, or one quite a bit like it, with Ianto once. "It's all right, Jack."
"I did this to him."
"You don't know that," Gwen reminded him.
"I just wanted..." Jack sighed. "But I didn't really think it would work. It never has before."
There really wasn't anything Gwen could say to that. She couldn't help filing it away, though, even knowing that she shouldn't. "I'm sorry."
Jack shrugged. "Not your fault." Gwen wanted to tell him, although she knew she couldn't say for sure, that it wasn't his either. But then, he wouldn't believe her anyway. She settled for sipping her coffee; it really was far too sweet. She made a face.
Jack let out a short laugh, holding up his own mug as though for a toast. "You too, huh?" Changing the subject, lightening the tone. Sometimes she knew Jack a bit too well.
"Tell me you're not getting Ianto back just for the hot drinks," she said, going along with it.
His face fell. "Honestly? I don't care if he makes another cup of coffee in his life. I don't care if he never comes back to us. I just... I just want him safe."
"I know," Gwen said. She knew she ought to agree, but again, she couldn't. It wasn't true. She wanted Ianto safe, and she'd live with it if he decided that he'd finally had enough of all that Torchwood put him through, but to have him turn away just when she'd finally gotten him back... the thought was too cruel. So she put it away, firmly, and told herself that he would come back. Because he had to.
Jack was still looking at her, head slightly cocked, as if he was reading her expressions. "Yeah," he said, quietly. Sometimes, she and Jack knew each other a bit too well. Then he patted her on the shoulder and stood. "Drink up," he said. "You've got a busy day."
*
File: JH 7172
Report: Vortex Manipulator
A Vortex Manipulator is a device, typically worn about the wrist, which allows the wearer to teleport through space and time. It may also serve as a kind of communications device. Other uses are unknown.
Vortex Manipulators are chiefly used by Time Agents [see File: JH 7172, Report: Time Agency] in the commission of their duties, at least in this time period, although they may be in more common use by the 51st century. At the present time, the only Vortex Manipulators known to exist belong to Captain Jack Harkness [see File: JH 7172; Report: Subject Overview] and Captain John Hart [see File: JH 8494].
It is worth noting that there is at least one instance where a Vortex Manipulator has been used by a person who was not the original owner [see Valiant File: Jones, M]. This suggests that they can be transferred from one user to another, and perhaps taken by force. Regardless, anyone in possession of a Vortex Manipulator is to be treated as extremely dangerous -- subdued if possible, terminated if necessary, avoided if there are no other options. [Note: The Valiant Files are not to be treated as historical fact. There is no reliable record of a Vortex Manipulator being taken from its owner by force or any other means.]
Due to their ability to manipulate the space-time vortex, Vortex Manipulators emit a distinctive energy signature, similar to that of the TARDIS [see File: TS1210; Report: TARDIS]. The Shield Program's sensor array is capable of detecting Vortex energy anywhere within a two-mile radius of the facility. Should the Shield Program indicate the use of either of a Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS within this range, lockdown protocols are to be immediately engaged, and only lifted when Security has examined the Facility and the surrounding area, and judged that all is secure. Should a Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS be used to enter the Facility itself, Security is to converge on the area where Vortex energy was detected, and from there spread out to sweep the building and outlying area. The Facility itself will remain in lockdown until the user of the Vortex Manipulator or TARDIS has been located and secured, or until such time as the area is deemed clear of all threats.
*
"So," Rhys said, his voice a bit crackly over the line; the reception here wasn't brilliant. "How's... how's everything, then?"
One thing about Rhys; he'd learned the hard way how to be cautious, how not to talk about things. Sometimes it was hard to believe that she'd ever felt she couldn't trust him. "I haven't been able to get in to see Gran, yet. But I've talked to one of her doctors, and we're hopeful."
"Good, good." Silence, then; Rhys casting about for the best way to play along with her story. Gwen leaned back against the wall of the Indian takeaway, jamming her free hand in her pocket. She couldn't help feeling like she was being watched, couldn't stop looking about her, just in case. A floppy-haired bloke in a ridiculous bowtie nodded at her as he went into the takeaway; no one else seemed to be paying her any mind. "Is he... is he a good sort, this doctor?"
"Seems so, yeah," Gwen said. "I think he's doing everything he can. Anyway, how is everything? Did you find someone to take Eddie today, or did you stay home?"
"Oh, I took some of my leave days; thought it would be best. Eddie and me had a proper lad's day out, we did."
"Bet you did. Took him to the pub, did you? Watched the rugby?"
"Girls, gambling... it was very wild," Rhys said. "Well, there was a girl, anyway. Gave Eddie her shovel at the playground, then got upset when he started chewing on it and threw a wobbly. Couldn't have been more than three."
"An older woman?" Gwen smiled; the smile faded as a gold sedan (practical, like Ianto's old Audi), pulled up to the curb, and Dr. Tau got out. He walked past without seeming to see her, straight into the takeaway. She wasn't sure whether or not to be relieved by that. "Rhys, I'm appalled."
"Yes, it was all very scandalous." There was a clatter in the background, pots and pans. "Oh for the love of -- Sorry, darling, he's got into the cupboards again."
"He'll do that," she said. Funny thing; even though she couldn't help but laugh as Eddie banged and Rhys tried not to swear, her eyes prickled just a little bit.
"Bloody --" Rhys was drowned out by the sound of metal banging against their hardwood floors; Gwen could just barely hear her son's laughter rising above the din. Her eyes started to water, and she wiped them with the back of her hand.
"Should I let you go, love? Sounds like you've got your hands full."
"Yeah, it's a bit... Sorry, love, but I do have to --"
"All right. Give Eddie a kiss for me."
The clanging stopped -- it was just Eddie's laughter, and then Rhys again. "Done it now, and I'll do it again at bedtime, if you like."
Dr. Tau walked out of the takeway, arms laden with bags. He gave Gwen a slight, barely perceptible nod, and she followed him to his car, a few steps behind. "As often as you can. I love you."
"I love you, too. Let me know how things are going with Gran."
"As soon as there's any news." She slid into the passenger side of the car; the door was barely shut before they were moving down the road. "Bye, sweetheart."
"Bye."
Gwen had to close her eyes and brace herself before hanging up the call.
"I'm sorry," Dr. Tau said. She knew she should look at him, but wasn't quite steady enough to do it, not just yet. "For pulling you away from them, I mean. It must be very hard."
"It's all right," she said, finally opening her eyes, staring out the window. There was a flash of blue as they whizzed down the street -- another police box, maybe? Glasgow seemed to be littered with them. "It's what I do."
"He must be very proud of you." There was something a bit wistful about Dr. Tau's voice, then. Gwen turned, studied his profile. He was very young. Too young, really. Hard to believe he was even really a doctor at all.
"Do you talk to them anymore?" she asked. He glanced at her, puzzled. "Your parents, I mean. Do you see them, or anything?"
His face fell. "Ah," he said, his attention returning to the road. "No. Not really. I tried, at first, but... there was always too much I couldn't say. And it felt like... The Project wouldn't... do anything to them, not unless it was absolutely necessary. But it was too much of a chance to take."
Gwen nodded. "I know the feeling."
The faintest hint of a smile crossed Simon's face. It was gone almost as soon as it had come. "I know," he said, quietly. There was a long silence, not altogether uncomfortable. "He asks about you. Mr. Jones, I mean. You and your husband. If you survived what happened with the 456, if you had your child, if you're still with Torchwood. I can't really tell him anything; we're really not supposed to talk at all, but... I do what I can."
"Thank you." Simon glanced at her, a dubious expression on his face. Like she'd been taking the mickey. "Thank you for taking care of him, for so long."
"I don't --" He shook his head, apparently struggling with the words. "I keep him healthy. It's better for the experiments if he's healthy. It's nothing..."
"But you talk to him," Gwen said. "You do more than just making sure he's not ill. Or you wouldn't be here right now." Simon didn't say anything to that, so she pressed on. "When did you decide you needed to get him out of there?"
"Honestly?" There was something a little heartbreaking in the sidelong glance he gave her. "He came to in the ambulance, on the way to the Facility, and for just a second, there was this look on his face... I'd never seen that, before. Someone realizing that they're trapped, and there's nothing they can do to get out. And I'd done that to him."
Gwen patted his arm. "And now you're setting him free."
Simon shook his head again. "It doesn't make up for it."
"No," Gwen agreed. "But it's a start."
*
File: JH 7172
Report: Subject Overview
JH 7172 is male, presumably human or mostly human, height 6' 1", weight approximately 200 lbs. Appears to be in his mid- to late-thirties; actual age impossible to tell. JH 7172 claims to hail from another planet, name unknown. He also claims to be from the 51st century. Neither of these claims can be proven, but both are generally believed to be true.
Although JH 7172 has gone by the name "Captain Jack Harkness" since his earliest mentions in the historical record, this name is an alias. His true name is unknown.
JH 7172 was once a member of the Time Agency [see File: JH 7172, Report: Time Agency], and knew Captain John Hart at that time [see File: JH 8494]. He still carries a Vortex Manipulator [see File: JH 7172, Report: Vortex Manipulator]. He also is a known companion of the Doctor [see File: TS 1210, Report: Companions] and has travelled through time using both the Vortex Manipulator and the Doctor's Tardis [see File: TS 1210, Report: TARDIS].
Due to his time travelling abilities, it is impossible to ascertain when JH 7172 first arrived on Earth. Reports suggest that he has been present on Earth both before he developed the ability to come back from a state of apparent death and afterwards [see File: JH 7172; Report: History (pre-resurrection) and File: JH 7172; Report: History (late 19th century)].
It is not known how JH 7172 developed the ability to come back from a state of apparent death; he has made statements to witness stating that it occurred during his initial travels with the Doctor, and that he hoped the Doctor could "fix it" [see File: JH 7172; Report: Torchwood Records (late 19th century)]. His later encounters with the Doctor have produced no noticeable difference in resurrection ability, suggesting that this is a permanent state. Although his resurrection abilities have never been studied in a scientific setting [DISPUTED; see the Valiant Files for further information] [NOTE: Given timeline discrepencies and lack of supporting documentation, the events described in the Valiant Files cannot be accepted as fact; the files themselves may remain part of the records on JH 7172, but this should NOT be construed as a support for their veracity.], they have been so widely observed and well recorded as to make JH 7172 the first and best-known example of the Lazarus Effect.
[Note: Commentary has been left in the preceding paragraph not to verify or cast doubt upon the Valiant Files, but to show that they are still a topic of debate in the community. Further discussion of the topic will be stricken from this report as unnecessary.]
*
As he had the night before, Jack waited until Simon was pulling his coat on before finally opening his mouth to ask a question. "How... how is he?" Gwen laid her hand over Jack's in instinctive sympathy. It couldn't be easy, what he was going through.
Simon hesitated, fingers wrapped tight around his own lapels. "He's..." The doctor ran one hand through his hair, messing it. "It's impossible to say. Physically, he's... weaker. The senior medical staff did finally allow me to return him to a more normal diet, and there is some exercise, but it's very limited, and he has to be sedated before I can remove him from restraints. I've attempted to wean him off the drugs as much as I possibly can without attracting notice, and I'll be giving him a stimulant before we attempt to move him, but --"
"What kinds of drugs are we talking about, here?" Jack asked, jaw tightening slightly.
"Ketamine, MDMA, and clonazepam." Simon took a deep breath before pressing on. "He's lucid, for the most part, and the balance issues haven't been too terrible, but there are lapses, and it's possible that in a situation of stress, he'll --"
"Lapses," Jack said. Gwen could feel him trembling with suppressed anger. "You should probably explain that."
Simon straightened, looking down at them all. After a moment, he sighed, stripped his coat off, and sat back down, leaning forward and looking Jack dead in the eye. "There are times when he doesn't seem to recognize where he is, or when it is. There's a ship; he mentions it from time to time, that he's still on the ship."
Jack drew in a sharp breath, let it out slowly. "The Valiant?" There was something dark and dangerous in his voice. Gwen tightened her grip on his hand, as if she could really hope to hold him back.
"I..." Simon looked more confused than frightened. "I couldn't say. He never refers to the ship by name; I don't know if it has one, or if it does and he doesn't know it. Is that... The Valiant, I mean, it's a ship?"
"You don't know." It wasn't a question.
"I've seen references to the Valiant, in your files, but the Valiant Files themselves are highly classified. Most of the senior staff say that they're completely made-up, just a work of fiction." There was something eager in the doctor's eyes, suppressed, but still there. "They're real, though?"
"It doesn't matter," Jack said, hastily. He leaned back, as if afraid of revealing something just by being too close to the doctor. "So. Ianto is weak, his balance is shot, and he could very well be delusional. Given the situation, it almost seems like we'd be better off strapping him to a gurney and just wheeling him out without ever waking him up."
Simon frowned; Gwen wondered if it was because of Jack's (almost certainly intentional) cruelty, or because the subject had been so completely changed. "He's... I probably don't need to tell you this, but he's a very controlled person, very restrained. It bothers him that there are times when he... when his perceptions of reality no longer conform to what's actually happening. If he were to wake up, outside of the facility, surrounded by people he hasn't seen for years, he will almost certainly assume that he's delusional, and that none of it is real. Considering his family history --" Jack flinched at that -- "he might very well conclude that he is now permanently insane. I'm reasonably confident that between the six of us, we can convince him that that is not the case. But I personally would rather not put him through that unless it's absolutely necessary. If we can get him out on his feet, moving more or less under his own power, and aware of what's happening at all times, I think that would be for the best."
Jack hmphed softly. "You're taking a chance there, Doctor."
"I know." Simon shrugged. "But I've been taking a lot of chances, lately." Jack didn't quite smile at that. "Also, it's almost certain that we'll have to fight our way free. Even if Captain Hart manages to distract most of the guards --" Captain Hart smiled and tipped off a little salute, clearly pleased at the notice, "-- some of them will mobilize to protect the Subject. Or Subjects, as the case may be." Gwen couldn't help but smile at him. "If one of us were tied up carrying him, or wheeling the gurney or chair, or..."
"Point taken. We'll need all available hands." Jack glanced over at Andy, who'd been rather conspicuously silent through most of the evening. "Think you'll be ready?"
Andy didn't answer; Captain Hart seemed more than ready to speak for him, though. "He'll do fine," he said, not even bothering to hide his leer, and Andy blushed scarlet. "Very apt pupil. Fast learner. Steady hands. And a good, firm --"
"That's enough," Gwen said, quickly.
Captain Hart smirked. "Our Dr. Tau here is also a capable shot, when he chooses to fire off a round," he said. Simon looked down at his hands.
Jack watched him, head cocked to one side. "If you're right about this, Doctor, you're probably going to have to shoot people, maybe kill them. Are you prepared for that?"
"Were you, your first time?" Jack shut his mouth with an audible snap, and Simon looked up at him, face composed. "It's safe to say, Captain Harkness, that I'm not prepared for what's going to happen tomorrow. That none of us are prepared for it. But we'll do what we have to, won't we?"
Simon stood abruptly, gathering his coat. This time, Jack didn't try to stop him for one last question.
Once Simon had gotten his coat and scarf on, gathered up his blueprints, and unlocked the door, he turned back of his own volition. "I'll see you all at the hospital tomorrow," he said. "I..." But whatever he was about to say, a last word of advice or reassurance or a simple "Good luck," it died before reaching his lips, and he left the flat without another word to any of them.
*
File: TS 1210
Report: Subject Overview
TS 1210 is an alien lifeform known commonly as the Doctor. He has apparently taken on several different forms. These forms differ greatly in appearance, but have all appeared to be human and male. These forms demonstrate a wide variance in apparent age -- TS 1210's actual age is unknown. His actual species and planet of origin are unknown.
It is suggested that TS 1210 is capable of regenerating into a different form at the moment of death, thus prolonging his life if not effecting a kind of immortality. It is also suggested that the new regenerations retain the memories of the old, although the personality is somewhat changed. This has never been tested, and therefore cannot be proven.
TS 1210 travels through space and time in a device known as the TARDIS [see Report: TARDIS].The appearance of the TARDIS is not known; reports suggest it is equipped with a device known as a Perception Filter, which hides it from notice. When in use, the TARDIS may give off a brief spike of Vortex Energy, similar to that of a Vortex Manipulator, thus allowing it to be detected [see File: JH 7172, Report: Vortex Manipulator].
TS 1210 often travels in the company of one or more persons, generally human. JH 7172 is known to have travelled with him, and has made statements linking his own resurrection abilities to his time with TS 1210 [see File: JH 7172, Reports: Subject Overview and History (19th Century)]. It is not known whether or not this is true.
TS 1210 has been named as an enemy to the Crown, and was declared a Public Menace by Prime Minister Harold Saxon. The Torchwood Institute was originally founded, in part, to capture/contain him, although this was later stricken from its charter [see File: JH 7172, History (21st Century)]. He is to be considered exceptionally dangerous, and contact with him is to be avoided at all costs. Should he be suspected to have infiltrated the Facility, all non-essential personnel are to evacuate at once. Remaining personnel will be given instructions at that time.
[Note: a more detailed report on the Doctor can be found in the Valiant Files. Given that the files themselves are considered to be of disputable accuracy, none of the information provided therein has been reproduced here.]
*
Gwen laid on the cot until long after Archie's flat had fallen silent around her. She'd never really done this before. Most of her missions with Torchwood had happened at the spur of the moment, rushing out to meet the danger with no time to think about what could go wrong. That was how she liked it. Waiting like this was too hard. Too much to worry about.
A bare handful of hours from now, she'd be back on the streets of Glasgow, wandering around with naught but her UNIT badge and her Torchwood-issued handgun to protect her. Assuming that Captain Hart was honestly trying to help them, and that he wasn't betrayed or somehow captured himself, he'd come and poison her. Assuming that Dr. Tau was telling the truth about the drug he'd concocted for this adventure, she'd wake up an hour later. Assuming that she'd done her job and been noticeable enough, and that Dr. Tau had done his job and not been so noticeable that the Project became suspicious of him, he would come in an ambulance, collect Jack and Andy, subdue the guards that had travelled with them, and whisk Gwen off to the Facility. At which point, they would still have to gain access to the building, find Ianto, and hope that Captain Hart's distraction would divert the majority of the guards away from them long enough for them to get out again.
Far, far too many assumptions. Nor could she really trust Captain Hart, or Dr.Tau, for that matter. Captain Hart had always been able to lie with sincerity, and she didn't really know anything about the doctor. She trusted Jack (most of the time), and she knew Andy wouldn't betray her, but that certainly wasn't enough to make her feel safe.
And as long as she didn't feel safe, she wasn't going to be able to sleep.
After staring at the ceiling a bit longer, she gave up, pushed herself up off the cot and padded to the door of her room. A cup of tea would be ideal, but the flat was too small and she didn't want to wake anyone who'd managed to get sleep where she couldn't. But she thought she could just about manage to get a glass of water without too much noise.
When she tiptoed out into the main room of the flat, there was a breeze coming through, cold and damp, and she shivered in her t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. Someone was out on the fire escape; she heard a voice, speaking softly. Instinctively, she crept towards it, glancing about her. In the dim light, she could just make out Andy on the sofa, fidgeting, childlike, in his sleep. Archie was most likely in his bedroom. That left Jack, or Captain Hart.
"Absolutely not," the voice said, and it was definitely Captain Hart. Gwen tucked herself into the shadow of a bookcase, wishing she could press herself a bit closer to it without risking the artefacts perched on its shelves. "No, look, I've told you a thousand times. It's bad enough you're crossing your own timeline. Honestly, are you trying to destroy the universe?" There was no answer that Gwen could hear. Mobile phone, probably. Or the wrist strap, although the one time she'd seen him use it to communicate, there'd been glowing holograms and such involved, and it was obvious he was trying to keep this quiet. "And if he saw you, he'd kill you first and ask questions later, only there wouldn't be a later, because it would destroy the bloody universe." His voice raised a bit on the last words, and Andy stirred. "We're sticking to the plan," Captain Hart said, and his voice was much quieter this time. "I know it's hard for you, but just be a good boy and do what you're told. It'll all be over soon." More silence, and then he sighed. "I'll see what I can do. But I can't just vanish; no one here trusts me as it is. I'll try, all right? Just do your job, for once. All right." More silence. "All right. Get some rest." She heard the sound of a mobile flipping shut, and then silence again.
She was just wondering if she ought to go back to bed, if she ought to try and find Jack, and if she really was being an absolute idiot in trusting Captain Hart again, after everything he'd done to them, when she heard his voice. "Might as well come out, Gwen." She only hesitated a moment longer before stepping out of the protective shadow of the bookshelf, through the open window, and onto the fire escape where he stood. The metal grate was freezing under her feet, and she would have given anything to be back home. "Impressive, though. I almost didn't know you were there. Almost."
"How did you know?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself as she studied him. His face was completely serious; impassive, almost.
He shrugged. "That's not what you came out here to ask me."
She raised her eyebrows, but he just looked back at her, calm as could be. "So. Who was that, then?"
"An old friend," he replied, turning to lean on the metal railing.
"An old friend who's crossing his own timeline?" Gwen had been around time-travelers long enough to know what that meant.
Captain Hart tapped his wrist strap. "Hazards of the job."
"The Time Agency?" Gwen's voice got a bit too loud, there, and Andy stirred again. Captain Hart turned, giving her a warning glance. "Sorry," Gwen said, dropping back down to a whisper, although she wasn't sure why. She had no reason to trust Captain Hart, after all, and every reason to wake the others up and have them help force the truth out of him. "But I thought... You told Jack..."
"It's the Time Agency, Gwen," he said, rather scornfully. "Yes, when I travelled back through the Rift the first time, they had disbanded. But this is a good decade before that, at least for them. Honestly, what linear time does to people."
She tried to wrap her head around that one, but gave it up as a bad job. "So you're working for them?" she asked, drifting to stand beside him, leaning against the railing like he did.
He glanced at her, sidelong, but she pretended to be staring at the skyline. "Like I said, I'm helping an old friend. Well, trying to keep him from blowing up the universe, at least. Not that he's grateful." He sighed. "Now he wants to be more involved. First he wanted to run away, and now he wants to be more involved. I think he's just hoping he'll get to shag himself, truthfully. He always was fixated on that."
Somehow, and she wasn't sure what it said about her (or Jack, really), that was the clue that Gwen had needed. "Jack? You were talking to Jack?"
"I got a message from him, after that complete and total cock-up with the 456. Said he'd gotten himself into a mess, and needed me to get him out of it. I thought... Well, dead boyfriend and all, the man was bound to be depressed. Thought I'd take him around the galaxy for a bit, finally remind him who he was and what he's supposed to be like. Then I got here, and it wasn't the same Jack at all. It was mine. From the old days. In a very, very, literal fashion." He glanced at her. "Is that enough, or do I need to put it into smaller words?"
Gwen would have been irritated, but she was too busy trying to sort things out. "But why is he here? What's he doing?"
Captain Hart shrugged. "Same thing we are. Save the Teaboy, save the world. Or something like that. Problem is, in figuring out how best to save Ianto Jones, my Jack had to do a little bit of research into just who Ianto Jones was. Which led to him finding out about your Jack, which led to all sorts of trouble. See, Time Agents aren't supposed to be sent on missions where they wind up encountering their future selves. Leads to all sorts of problems. When my Jack realized that he was going to turn into your Jack, he realized that, at best, he was going to come out of this mission with a rather large hole in his memory. And that, Gwen Cooper, scared the shit out of him. So he called me."
"I don't understand," Gwen said, frowning. "If Time Agents aren't supposed to encounter their future selves --"
"Except that Jack is supposed to lose his memory." Captain Hart shook his head. "Don't tell me he hasn't told you about it. One of the first things he said when he saw me again. The Time Agency stole two years of his memory. That's why he left them. If he doesn't leave, he doesn't meet the Doctor. If he doesn't meet the Doctor, he doesn't become immortal. If he doesn't become immortal --"
"Reapers," Gwen finished.
Captain Hart turned to look at her then, his eyes lost in shadow, his voice quiet and deadly serious. "Worse than that, Gwen. Too many timelines depend on Jack Harkness's continued presence in the world, not just now but all through time -- the past, the future, all of it comes down to him. Without him, Time will collapse in on itself. He's not a fixed point. He's the lynchpin. He's holding it all up."
For a long time, Gwen could just stare at Captain Hart, trying to make sense of it. "And he was still going to run away?" she asked.
Another shrug, and Captain Hart turned back to stare at the skyline. "He was always a selfish bastard," Captain Hart said. "I think he figured that he could just run away and someone else would take his place. Ianto, maybe; after all, the poor bloke's immortal now, or close enough for government work. Unfortunately, it rather looks as though Ianto wouldn't be immortal at all if it weren't for his beloved Captain. And even if Jack's got nothing to do with it... Well. I'm as big a fan of Eye Candy as anyone else, but he and Jack are two very different people, bound to make different choices. You can't just swap him into Jack's place and hope that everything stays the same."
Gwen shivered, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. The stakes had been high to start with, but this... She felt fabric settling over her shoulders, and looked up to see Captain Hart draping his red coat around her. "Bit much to take in, isn't it?" he asked. "So you can see why you wouldn't want to bring this up to Jack. He's not as selfish as he used to be, I'll grant you that, but I'm not sure he wouldn't try to wiggle his way out of this somehow. Well, and it's not like his life has been that easy. I'd try to dodge it too."
"Your Jack's not going to be at the Facility, is he?" Gwen asked, feeling her hands tighten on the wool of John's coat, pulling it tighter around herself.
"He'll be well away by the time we get there," John said, but he sounded a bit uncertain. "And if he's not, well... Try not to let your Jack shoot mine. Mine can still die. And try not to let anyone else shoot him either. I know Eye Candy would still take a bullet for him, but he's bound to be a bit confused, so it might be up to you. Hopefully not, but... end of the universe and all."
It was flip enough, but there was nothing casual in the way John looked at her when he said it. "I'll do what I have to," she said.
"I know you will," John said. His hand rested, briefly, on his shoulder. "You were a good team," he added. "I was a little bit jealous, really. Never any good at inspiring that kind of loyalty."
"He's had more practice," Gwen said. Then she slipped out of the jacket and handed it back to him. "Goodnight, John."
"See you in the morning," he said, voice following her as she crawled back through the open window.