Season of Mists, Chapter Three (REVISED)
Title: Season of Mists, Chapter Three: Old Gods
Author: lookninjas
Character/Pairing(s): Gwen, Andy, John Hart, Jack Harkness, Archie (Torchwood Two), Dr. Simon Tau (OC), Ianto Jones
Rating: R
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.
Summary: A CoE fixit. In which many things are discussed, including love, death, family, Morse Code, and a ship called the Valiant.
Chapter One Chapter Two
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.
This story was originally written for the first Torchwood Big Bang, and an earlier draft has been posted to this journal. So if the story looks familiar to you, that's why.
Much thanks to ambiguous_opal, who talked me through the first draft (so long ago!); kel_riley, who beta'd the final version; and tearoseandhoney, who stuck it out with me through three drafts and what must be about a year's worth of work by now. This fic would not exist without the three of you, and that's just facts.
File: IJ 3927
Report: INCIDENT REPORT 4/11, Subject Interview (transcript) [excerpt]
INTERVIEWER: So you don't think Captain Hart came to rescue you?
IJ 3927 (SUBJECT): Of course not. Why would he?
[pause]
IJ 3927: Unless he was going to give me to Jack as some sort of present, like he tried to do with Gray. Then I could turn evil and mad and somehow manage to coerce Hart into blowing some things up for me. Which could be fun, depending on what we blow up.
INTERVIEWER: You think Captain Harkness may have sent him?
IJ 3927: You focus on the strangest things sometimes.
INTERVIEWER: Do you think Captain Harkness sent him?
IJ 3927: No. I don't. Jack wouldn't send someone else to do his job. And he certainly wouldn't send Hart.
INTERVIEWER: Then why do you think Captain Hart would come here?
IJ 3927: I don't know. To gloat, maybe? See if he could find any good-looking doctors to kidnap? He must be pretty pleased with himself if that's the case. He got the best of the lot of you.
[pause]
IJ 3927: And no, I don't think my doctor was somehow involved in this. I don't think he let Hart in, and I don't think he let himself be taken. He was shocked as anything when Hart grabbed him.
INTERVIEWER: Your doctor? Which doctor would that be?
IJ 3927: It's not as if I know any of your names. The dark-haired one. The one that Hart kidnapped.
INTERVIEWER: You think of him as your doctor. Like a personal physician, perhaps, or...
IJ 3927: Like the only doctor in this place who hasn't killed me at least twice. How's that?
INTERVIEWER: You've grown fond of him.
[pause]
*
Jack had Ianto down on his knees, hands behind his head, Jack's gun pointed straight between Ianto's eyes and Gwen couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as the two men stared each other down. "I was struck down in battle," Ianto said, jaw tight, just barely shaking. "You owe me, Jack. You have to find a cure."
"You're already dead," Jack said, and fired, and Gwen couldn't even scream, could do nothing as Ianto fell back, laughing, laughing, blood spreading across his chest, and Ianto lay there, and he laughed. "I killed you!"
"I can't die," Ianto said, laughing, and Jack fired again, and Ianto's body lurched and fell back, and he was still laughing. "Not gonna die. Never gonna die." His voice was sing-song, turning savage when he added, "This is your fault, Jack."
And Jack kept firing, the report loud in Gwen's ears even as she turned and ran, Ianto's voice behind her, "O Captain, my Captain--" and the flicker of white robes, a white hand reaching out and she dodged it, running and running down metal floors, metal corridors, the sound of gunfire, but she was the one shooting now, men in black uniforms falling on either side of her, and somewhere in the distance she could hear Jack shouting, but she couldn't make out the words over all the gunfire.
Then there was a door at the end of the hall, swinging open, and she stopped, raising her gun, bracing herself. And it was Ianto coming out, but he was gone wrong, draped in metal and his face was flat, his footsteps heavy and loud. He was pushing Dr. Tau out in front of him like a shield, one hand holding Dr. Tau's arm twisted behind his back, the other arm (metal over pale skin) wrapped around Dr. Tau's throat.
"We can save him," Dr. Tau gasped, even as the grip tightened, choking him. "We owe him."
And she couldn't move, and she couldn't breathe, and somewhere in the distance, she could hear Jack shouting, "Gwen! Gwen!"
"Gwen?"
She jerked awake, papers spilling off her lap, eyes opening wide as she tried to re-orient herself, still gasping. It was dim, the room lightened only by the traces of streetlights coming in from outside, and a dim blue glow, which she thought might be a computer. She turned to look, and suddenly Jack's face was right there, right next to her, and she gasped again and flinched backwards into the couch cushions.
"Hey, hey," he murmured, trying for soothing and almost succeeding. "It's all right. It's only me, Gwen. It's only me."
Jack with a gun to Ianto's head. Jack shooting him, over and over and...
Gwen shut her eyes tight and shook her head. Dreams, that's all it was. "Sorry," she said, and took a deep breath, eyes still closed. When she opened them again, Jack had backed off a little bit, started to clear up the papers on the floor. When Gwen shifted, sitting up, she could hear papers crumpling under her arse, and winced. "I must have dozed off. What were we--"
"Gwen, it's past four in the morning. You've been out for six hours at least." Jack's rueful grin faded into a look of concern. "Not sleeping much, these days?"
The thought of telling him about her dreams, all of her dreams, came and went as fast as lightning. "Still recovering from Eddie's early days, I think," she lied, pulling a thick sheaf of papers from underneath her legs. "Not much of a sleeper, that boy."
"Yeah, they'll do that to you," Jack said. "I remember with Alice..." His voice died, then, and he quickly turned back to sorting through the papers in his hands.
Gwen did the same, staring down at the papers she'd unearthed from the creases of the sofa, trying to smooth them back into some semblance of neatness. It took her a moment to realize that she was reading the same word, over and over again: [redacted.][redacted.][redacted.] "Jack?" she asked, holding the paper out with somewhat shaky hands.
He laughed, a sound with no joy or humor in it. "Oh, right. That one's mine." He took the paper from her, placed it carefully in its file. "Yeah, it looks like there's a few things Dr. Tau's not supposed to know about me. Or a few things he doesn't want me to know about myself, although I don't think he'd be this clumsy about it."
The next page was the same, and the one after it. [redacted.][redacted.][redacted.] She thrust the bundle at Jack, quickly. He took the papers without looking up at her.
"There's a pattern," he murmured, absently. "Can't quite put my finger on it, but there's..." He shook his head. "I don't know. There's something, though. Something they're trying to hide."
"Think it's related to this?" Gwen asked, unable to stop herself leaning in. Patterns. She was usually good with finding patterns.
"Couldn't say." Jack shrugged, flipping absently through the rest of the pages. "Wouldn't surprise me." He laughed, and it was bitter and hard to listen to. "Probably shouldn't say that. Every time I think I can't be surprised..." He sighed and stuffed the rest of his papers back into their file.
"I could--" Jack raised an eyebrow at her, and she stopped short, realizing that he'd obviously not be too keen on letting her read the full report of his life, looking for patterns in it. "I'll get you a cup of tea," she said, pushing herself off the sofa.
He stood, too, looming over her, still as tall and broad-shouldered and imposing as he'd ever been. "You should go back to sleep," he said, quietly. "I'll just--"
"Thought we had a rule about you not giving me orders anymore, Jack," Gwen said, smiling at him to try and take some of the sting out of it. He ducked his head and turned away, and she touched the back of his arm. "Even if I wanted to, I'm not getting back to sleep. Not tonight. And since you're obviously not tired..."
Jack turned, looking down at her for a moment. There was an expression on his face that she couldn't quite name. Then he bent down and kissed her cheek. "Tea it is, then," he said, and led the way into the kitchenette before Gwen could figure out what had happened.
She thought, maybe, that she'd forgiven him a little bit.
"It's funny," Jack said, pushing through a beaded curtain and into the kitchenette. It was even smaller than the one at the Hub had been, with shelves full of strangely shaped biscuit tins. Gwen wondered if they were alien. Alien biscuit tins. Owen would have had a good laugh about that one. "There's always time for a cup of tea, isn't there? Even if the world is ending, there's a massive temporal paradox happening, and the Prime Minister is an insane alien mastermind bent on conquering the universe, there's still--"
"Did that really happen?" Gwen asked, picking up a jar of instant coffee from the shelf and shaking it in her hand. It looked to be about a century old; Archie must have unearthed it specifically for them. "An alien was the Prime Minister?"
Jack poured water into the electric kettle and plugged it in. Gwen rather thought he was purposely keeping his back to her. "It... Kind of. It's hard to explain."
Gwen frowned, thinking for a bit. "This would be the temporal paradox that was previously mentioned, then."
"Yeah." A rummage through the cupboards for mugs, sorting through tea tins until he found the one he wanted. He was definitely not looking at Gwen. "Ending the paradox reset time, which erased everything. Well, mostly everything. We still had an alien Prime Minister, but it was only for a day or two, not... you know, a year."
Prime Minister for a day. It pinged something deep inside her, some memory that wouldn't quite come to the surface. "But if it didn't happen, then how do you--"
"I was at the epicenter when it happened." Jack had stopped rummaging, stopped moving entirely; his hands rested on the countertop, trembling just a little bit. "You remember when John came through the Rift, the first time? We threw that bomb into the Rift, and when it exploded, it-- Well. It reset time. But we all remembered it. It's the same thing."
Right after Jack came back from his trip from the Doctor, when he wouldn't say where he'd been. Right after Harold Saxon had vanished. He'd only been Prime Minister for... two days, perhaps? And he'd been the one behind the Project, at least according to Archie's reckoning, and... "Jack," Gwen said, but didn't continue. Couldn't, not with the way he'd tensed up, shoulders hunched beneath the greatcoat and all at once, he was so fragile. "I... Is there milk, or does Archie not believe in that?"
Jack let out a slow breath. Relief, probably. "Just don't let him see you polluting good tea with it," he said. "It's in the fridge. And Gwen?" When she turned, he was staring down at the kettle, speaking to it and not to her. "If that really is... If it's really Ianto, that those people are holding... He's not going to be the same. Not after something like this. It... it changes people."
I died, Jack had told her, after he'd come back. I died so many times.
"I know," she said, and ducked behind the open refrigerator door before he could see the way her eyes had welled up again.
*
File: IJ 3927
Report: INCIDENT REPORT, 4/11
At approximately 0900 hours, Shield Program alerted security staff to the presence of an unknown intruder in the Project's Main Facility. Intruder was at this time aproximately 400 meters from observation room where Subject was being held, and appeared to have entered the building through the use of a Vortex Manipulator [see File: Shield Program, Report: Vortex Energy Detection]. Security staff converged on the location and discovered a Time Agent currently operating under the alias of Captain John Hart [see File: JH 7172, Report: Known Allies and Connections] on the verge of entering the observation room and reaching the Subject. Before security staff could neutralize the threat, the Time Agent managed to enter the observation room and take a member of the medical staff hostage. [see File: ST 0963, Report: INCIDENT REPORT, 4/11]. Although the Shield Program was at full functional capacity, the Time Agent was somehow able to circumvent the block on his teleportation ability and flee the scene, taking the member of medical staff with him.
The whereabouts of the Time Agent and ST 0963 are currently unknown. It is not known whether ST 0963 was an accomplice of the Time Agent's, or if either he or the Time Agent were responsible for the failure of the Shield Program. Should ST 0963 or any other member of the Project's staff be determined to have caused either the intrusion, the kidnapping of a member of staff, or the failure of the Shield Program, said staff member will be immediately terminated in accordance with protocol.
*
"Gwen!" The relief in Rhys's voice was palpable, even across all those miles. "Everything all right, then? All... arrived, safely, and all of that?"
"Yes, yes, just checked in at the hotel." Gwen glanced around her room, at the duffel bag, contents spilling out over the floor, the laptop left open on the bed, as if she was in the midst of checking something. It wasn't a bad room, really -- lovely large bed, private balcony, all the rest of it. She wondered where the bugs were, all the little recording devices and monitors and the rest of it. Phone, definitely. Smoke detector, most likely. Television, perhaps. Were there any cameras? She cringed at the thought. "How's the home front? Is His Highness behaving himself?"
"Ah, it's not been so bad, really. Wanting a bit more attention, maybe, but that's to be expected. Thought I'd take him to the park in a bit, let him... I don't know, eat sand. And bugs. Sand and bugs. Maybe see if that little blonde girl's there; he can pull her hair and then try to make off with her toys again, like last time."
Gwen opened a drawer, found it empty, closed it again. "He's flirting. Takes after his dad, he does."
"Got to start them young." Gwen opened another drawer (also empty), and closed it. "So. Have you... have you gone in to see Gran, yet?"
And of course her husband would have already realized she couldn't tell him what she was doing or where she was, and of course he'd have already figured out a cover for her, because her husband was brilliant. "Haven't been able," she said, sinking down on the bed. "Her doctors say she's not ready for visitors just yet. But I'll let you know as soon as I get in."
"But you've talked to them? Her doctors, I mean?"
"Just the one," Gwen said. "He's good, though. I mean, he seems to really care what happens, so... At least she's in good hands, right?"
"Yeah. Guess so." Rhys was quiet for a moment; in the background, Gwen could hear her son, gabbling and cooing away, banging at the tray of his high chair. "Well, and your Gran's always been pretty tough, hasn't she? All your people are."
"Your people, too. You've married into this lot now. For better or for worse."
It wasn't until Rhys's silence stretched several beats longer than it ought to have that Gwen realized just what she'd said. She wondered if she ought to correct herself, amend the statement, try to reassure him. But none of those options sounded like good ones, so she just waited, until he let out a sigh and said, "Guess I did, at that. Bit like marrying into the mob, isn't?"
"We're not that bad," Gwen protested. "Well. Most of us aren't."
"Yes, speaking of that. What's that Ca--" He caught himself before Jack's title slipped out. "That cousin of yours. Jack. He still around, or has he run off again and left you to handle everything?"
Gwen sighed, shaking her head. "It's not that easy for him, Rhys. You know he and Gran... It's different, their relationship." Different was probably putting it mildly, at that. As much as Gwen had loved both Jack and Ianto, and as aware as she'd been that they'd made each other happy, she'd never quite been able to put a finger on what they meant to each other. Which was probably the point. "It's been a hard few years for him."
"Not just him," Rhys muttered.
"Rhys." Gwen glanced at the clock; she'd have to get out on the streets soon, start being noticeable. The thought made her stomach twist. "After all he lost, and all at once? Yes, he's taking this badly, and no, I'm not happy about it. But it's hard to blame him, after everything."
"I know." Rhys's voice was quiet, maybe a bit thoughtful. Neither of them said anything for a few seconds, and Gwen was painfully aware that she had to go, had to keep moving, but she couldn't bear to cut the conversation off, either, just in case. "I wonder sometimes if... how it might have been different if..." He trailed off.
"I do, too." She wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but it didn't matter. If Ianto hadn't gone into Thames House. If it had been Rhys instead, or maybe even Gwen herself. She'd thought about all three, about all the things that might have been, if Jack had gone in alone, if they'd brought a suit or something for Ianto, if Tosh hadn't died, or Owen, or both of them, if if if and it never changed anything, but it didn't stop her wondering if it couldn't have been different somehow.
Rhys sighed. Then he made a faintly disgusted noise. "Sorry, love, I'd better go. I think someone needs a change of nappies."
Gwen laughed; she couldn't help it. "Bad, is it?"
"I'll spare you the details; you've enough on your plate as is. Give Gran my love when you see her. And keep an eye on that cousin of yours, will you?"
"I'll do my best." She only hesitated a second before adding, "Rhys? I love you."
"I love you, too, sweetheart. And I'll give Eddie a kiss from you. Only not, you know, now."
"Best not to," Gwen agreed. "I'll see you soon, darling. I love you."
"Love you, too," Rhys said, again, and then, "bye," and then he was gone.
Gwen sat on the bed for a minute, the laptop open next to her. Her duffel bag was still unzipped and spilling its contents over the floor by the wardrobe, the black UNIT kit prominent at the top. She shuddered, suddenly unwilling to make herself leave the hotel and go out into the streets. Then she took a deep breath, pushed herself to her feet, checked her gun and her fake UNIT badge, and left the room without looking back once.
*
File: IJ 3927
Report: INCIDENT REPORT 4/11, Debriefing -- ST 0963 (transcript) [excerpt]
ST 0963 (MEDICAL STAFF): He said... Oh God, what was it... He said I was a "real find." Those were his words, exactly. And he started... He began to describe my appearance. In... in some detail.
INTERVIEWER: Was there anything that seemed like it might be meaningful out of it? Some hint to his goals, why he came to the Facility, or...
ST 0963: Not that I can think of.
INTERVIEWER: And after that, did he--
ST 0963: Wait. There was... He said that he thought Jack would like me. That I was Jack's type.
INTERVIEWER: Meaning Captain Jack Harkness?
ST 0963: I believe so, yes.
INTERVIEWER: What were his exact words?
ST 0963: I don't remember.
INTERVIEWER: Did he say that Jack "would" like you or that Jack "is going" to like you?
ST 0963: He said...
[pause]
ST 0963: I'm sorry. I really don't remember.
INTERVIEWER: Think about it for a moment. What was the exact phrasing that he used?
ST 0963: I... You do realize that sodium thiopental is not actually a truth serum, don't you? It loosens your inhibitions, it makes you talk, but it doesn't--
[pause]
ST 0963: So this is what it's like, being on the other side.
INTERVIEWER: I'm not sure I'm following you. The other side of what?
ST 0963: Nothing. I... It doesn't matter.
INTERVIEWER: I see. And you don't remember what, exactly, Captain Hart said.
ST 0963: No. I don't.
INTERVIEWER: Witholding pertininent information is grounds for termination from the Project.
ST 0963: I was captured by a known enemy of the Project, transported away from the Facility, and drugged. I believe those are also grounds for termination.
INTERVIEWER: If you believed that you would not be terminated, would you be more willing to comply with--
ST 0963: I am complying. I just don't remember what he said.
INTERVIEWER: I see.
ST 0963: I was dizzy, I was frightened, I was...
INTERVIEWER: Of course. No one is accusing you of anything. I merely want the record to accurately reflect your experience.
ST 0963: Of course.
INTERVIEWER: Any decisions to be made regarding your status with the Project will be made by the Board, once they've reviewed all relevant information. Including this interview.
ST 0963: Of course.
INTERVIEWER: Now. You're certain you don't remember what Captain Hart said?
*
Gwen looked back over her shoulder, then in the other direction. A low mist had settled in, shrouding the dim streets, and what CCTV coverage there might have been in this area looked to have been temporarily taken out by vandals (or not by vandals, given Captain Hart's talent for hiding his own presence, and the presence of anyone else he cared to), but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It had been growing on her all day, ever since she'd left the hotel and set out to make herself a target. It was a fine line she was treading, trying to keep the Project's eyes on her without ever letting them see what she was doing, and one misstep could ruin everything.
Footsteps sounded on the street, and she shrank back into the shadows without thinking, huddling into her coat. A tall, thin man with floppy hair and a wholly incongruous bowtie ambled past, giving her a smile and a wink before disappearing into the curry shop next to her. It was several seconds before she finally let her breath out in a sigh of relief. But almost as soon as she'd relaxed, she caught sight of headlights piercing the early-evening gloom, and she tensed up again.
It was a sedan, silver or maybe a very light gold, like Ianto's had been. Sleek without being flashy. Practical. It was, in fact, very like Ianto's car, and perhaps that was why Gwen wasn't surprised to see Dr. Tau climbing out of it, his topcoat swirling around his ankles, face muffled in his scarf. He left the engine running, didn't lock the doors. As he passed, he looked straight at her, just for a second, and nodded. Then he vanished into the curry shop without a word.
Gwen counted to ten. Then, with her collar pulled high and her shoulders hunched in, she hurried to Dr. Tau's car, slid into the passenger's seat, and shut the door behind her. She sank into the seat, trying to make herself as invisible as possible, and waited.
Four minutes passed. Five. There was a strange buzzing sound coming from the radio; it was familiar, but Gwen couldn't quite place it. Six minutes. Gwen dug her mobile from her pocket, brought it close to the radio. The buzzing got louder. Seven minutes. What was it Tosh had said about remote bugs? She'd had this gadget-- Gwen remembered that much-- it had a sort of spinny thing on the end of it, and Owen'd said she was going about it all wrong, that she was making it too complicated, that--
At eight minutes thirty, Dr. Tau slid in at the driver's side with an armful of takeaway, saw Gwen holding her phone up to the radio, with the buzzing still going, and actually smiled. "One sec," he mouthed, turning to deposit their dinner in the backseat. Then he took her phone from her nerveless fingers, flipped it open, and turned it off. The buzzing kept going. He shut the phone again, opened the back cover, and took the battery out.
The buzzing stopped.
Gwen felt distinctly stupid, her cheeks flaming as she took her phone (and its battery) back. She couldn't meet Dr. Tau's eyes, so it surprised her that he sounded so apologetic when he said, "A friend of mine taught me that. It's a bit primitive, but it does get the job done. Of course, you can't use the phone now."
"That's all right," Gwen murmured. The little car purred faintly as they pulled away from the curb, down the rapidly darkening streets. There was another blue police box on the corner. Glasgow was littered with them, seemed like. "Rhys won't mind if the phone is off. He'll understand."
"You can put the battery back in when we get to Torchwood Two," Dr. Tau said. "Archie's got this... well, I'm not really sure how it works, but I trust him when he says that it does. And, of course, John's vortex manipulator kills any tracking signals within a ten-meter radius." He gave her a sidelong glance before adding, "Although he'll claim that you really have to be a good deal closer."
Gwen turned to look at him, to study him for a bit. "Do you trust him?" she asked. When Dr. Tau blinked at her, she clarified. "Captain Hart, I mean. Do you trust him?"
Dr. Tau chewed his lip. "I do," he said, finally, his voice thoughtful. "But then, I don't really have much choice, do I? If it was different, if it wasn't... I can't say for sure that I would, otherwise." He paused for a moment. "I know what my parents would think."
"So you and he..." Gwen didn't elaborate, didn't need to. It was obvious by the flush on Simon's face that he knew just what she was talking about.
"We... ah..." He rubbed at the back of his neck, laughed, embarrassed. "A few times, back at the beginning. I think he wanted... I think he felt he had to convince me, and that... that was his way of doing it. I don't know if we should be talking about this, there might be other bugs in the car or..."
Gwen frowned, trying to work it out in her head. "But I thought... I mean, you found him, right? So wouldn't--"
"Oh no." Simon laughed again, carefully steering the car through a corner. "God no. I wouldn't have even known where to start. No, he found me. Kidnapped me, actually. It's kind of a funny story..." Glancing at her, he trailed off. "What?"
"It's just... How did he know about Ianto, then? If you weren't the one to tell him."
Simon didn't answer her, not right away. He pulled up outside of Archie's flat, stopped the car, and turned it off. Neither of them moved to get out of it, and finally, Simon spoke. "I don't know," he said, quietly. "I never thought to ask. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't answer me if I did, or if he did answer, that it wouldn't be true."
Gwen opened her mouth to ask another question, to press him further, but Simon stopped her with an upraised hand. "I do know, however, that he isn't going to betray us. Not with this. He wants Ianto free, as much as any of us do. More, quite possibly. He wouldn't jeopardize that."
"Why?" It was all Gwen could think of to ask.
"I don't know," Simon said. He shook his head. "I really don't."
Then, without another word, he climbed out of the car.
*
File: IJ 3927
Report: INCIDENT REPORT 4/11, Final Status Decision re: ST 0963
Although medical staff member ST 0963 was captured by a known enemy of the Project, he was not held for any significant length of time, nor does it appear that he divulged any information to said enemy. There is no evidence to suggest that he was in any way complicit with the break-in at the Project's main facility, nor that he had anything to do with the enemy's subsequent escape. Nor is there any reason to believe that ST 0963 would attempt to engage said enemy again for any reason upon his resumption of normal duties. ST 0963 has furthermore been compliant with the methods and goals of this investigation, and although aware of the risk of termination should he have been judged to be responsible for any aspect of this incident, he does not appear to have attempted to sabotage the investigation, nor to engage in any other act that might harm the Project. It is the conclusion of the Board that ST 0963 should be immediately returned to his normal duties, without probationary period, and with no need for another member of medical staff to shepherd him through his duties. Furthermore, it is the conclusion of the Board that the current monitoring of ST 0963 is adequate, and that there is no need for any additional surveillance.
Further investigation as to the cause and motives of the break-in at the Project's main Facility shall be continued, as will all investigations into the current whereabouts of Captain John Hart. Any staff member proven to have had contact with or to have assisted Captain John Hart shall be subject to termination in accordance with current protocol.
*
Gwen couldn't keep her eyes off Hart, watching his expressions as he hunched behind Simon, studying the Facility's blueprints spread out on the floor of Archie's flat.
"There's an empty Observation room here, just down the hall from Mr. Jones," Simon explained, tapping the blueprints to point out the room. "That's where we'll take Mrs. Cooper. Once Captain Hart starts his... his distraction, we'll be able to get out and down to Mr. Jones. He's kept sedated, of course, but I've been... altering the doses as much as I can, and it shouldn't take much to bring him around. There is, though... I'm not sure if..."
Simon fell silent, then, his hand trembling on the map, and Gwen looked to Jack in alarm. "What's wrong?" Jack asked, his voice quiet.
"I'm losing him." Simon looked up at Jack, his eyes troubled. "There's... He isn't always... aware. Of where he is, or what's happening. I thought it was the drugs, at first; the combination's pretty potent and it's not like we've been moderate with the dosage, but... I've been lowering them for weeks now. Diluting them. But it's not getting any better. If anything, it's getting worse. I can bring him around, given enough time, but..."
"We may not have that time," Jack finished. His voice was calm enough, but his face was pained.
He's not going to be the same. Not after something like this.
"I have no idea how he's going to react to seeing the two of you," Simon said, glancing at Gwen, then at Jack. "You especially, Captain Harkness. He... When he's not lucid, when he's... He seems to think that you're being held as well. That we've got you in chains. In the 'engine room,' although I'm not sure where he's getting that, since we don't..." He frowned, studying Jack carefully; Jack was holding himself rigid, his face suspiciously blank. "It's possible that he's remembering something that happened to the two of you, some time that the two of you were held captive under similar circumstances. There's nothing in the files to suggest such a thing ever happened, but--"
"How have you been bringing him around?" Jack asked, cutting him off.
Simon studied him a little longer, before sighing and leaning back. "Morse code," he said. "We've been using it to communicate-- the room is heavily monitored, of course, but if we keep the movements small and the sound relatively quiet, it doesn't show up on the cameras or in the mics. It works best when there's physical contact; I think the element of tactile stimulation helps to..." Apparently Jack didn't seem to quite understand; Simon sighed again, then reached across the blueprints to clasp Jack's hand. "Like this," he said, tapping lightly on the back of Jack's hand with one finger.
For a moment, Gwen thought Jack would pull away, but then he closed his eyes, as if to better focus on the message being passed from Simon to himself. When Simon withdrew, Jack didn't open his eyes. "TW1?" he asked, quietly.
"It's his call sign," Simon said. "Not sure where it comes from, but that's what it is. 'SAFE' and 'HOME' are our key words; he tends to respond strongly to them, snaps out of it faster. And 'NO SHIP' -- when he's... not aware, that's usually where he thinks he is. On a ship of some sort. I..." He stopped before he could say what he was about to say, or ask what he was about to ask, and shook his head. "You should introduce yourself first. Then start in on his key words. Don't say anything more, or attempt to explain things; it won't sink in. You'll probably have to repeat yourself a few times. Just be patient. You'll know when he's come out of it."
"But you'll be there," Andy said, hesitantly. "Won't you? I mean, once we've got him out and everything, you'll be helping us take care of him. Right?"
Simon glanced over at Andy. "I don't know," he said, quietly. "Getting to Mr. Jones is the easy part. Getting him out... Most of the active Security force will be sent to the Guard Station, to deal with Captain Hart. The rest will be dispatched to guard the exits, and to guard the Subjects. If we're lucky, we'll have just enough time to get Mr. Jones on his feet; I'll have a wheelchair ready in his room if that doesn't seem feasible. After that..." He shrugged. "After that we fight our way free."
Jack raised an eyebrow at him. "You've fired a gun before?"
"I--" Another look over the shoulder at Hart; the Time Agent had turned suddenly smug, and a blush was starting at the top of Simon's cheekbones. Gwen remembered her gun training sessions with Jack, and couldn't quite suppress a roll of her eyes. "A few times. I wouldn't say I'm particularly good at it, but I'll do my best."
"Oh, come now. You weren't as bad as all that." Hart's tone was less crude than Gwen had expected, albeit not by very much. "Could do with more practice, I'll grant you, but you've got a steady hand." He paused for just a moment before adding, "Very firm grip. And a good--"
"This isn't like shooting at paper targets, you know," Jack said. "They'll be moving, firing back, shouting... screaming. Are you sure you're going to be ready for that?"
Simon shook his head. "No," he said, calmly. "I'm not sure it's possible to be ready for something like that. But I'll try."
Jack turned to look at Andy. "How about you? John said he was going to show you--"
Hart cleared his throat. "Not necessary, as it turns out. Your PC Davidson is quite the marksman. Although I'd thought the police in this part of the world didn't carry firearms."
Gwen stared at Andy, a bit shocked. He looked down at his hands. "Well. I mean, with half the city blown up and those weevil things everywhere and only the three of you to stop them and God knows what else we've got in Cardiff... It made sense, really, to have a bit more than just some pepper spray and a baton to defend myself with. Let alone other people; I mean..."
"Andy," Gwen said, quietly. "Who taught you to fire a gun, if it wasn't Captain Hart?"
Andy finally met her gaze, his own eyes somewhat defiant. "He did," he said, quietly. "Ianto did."
"And he took you to Flat Holm, didn't he? Introduced you around. Explained what you needed to do." It had never occurred to Gwen to ask how Andy'd known what needed to be done, why he was so ready to take over. She'd just let him do it, no questions, no doubts, and he'd stepped in as unceremoniously as Ianto would've. Doing what needed to be done.
"Reckon he didn't want the two of you to be at loose ends should something happen to him," Andy said. "Didn't talk about it much, not really. Just sort of..."
Jack reached out and took Gwen's hand, squeezed it. She leaned slightly into his warmth. "How often have you used a gun, Andy? Apart from target practice. How many times?"
Andy shrugged. "Three times. Not this sort of situation, mind. Not... people. But I'll do what has to be done."
"Yeah," Jack said, quietly. "Yeah, I guess you will."
For some reason, Gwen felt drawn to look at Hart again; he was staring at Jack in the strangest way. His face was hard, but it wasn't angry. Determined, perhaps. For a moment, Gwen felt sure he was going to say something, reveal his motives with some slip of the tongue. Instead, he clapped his hands, and said, "Good. We're all ready to kill people. Fantastic. I'm sure your parents are very proud. Now, numbers. About how many do you think we'll be facing, Dr. Tau?"
Simon gave him a disbelieving look, then shook his head and turned back to the map, to his explanations and plans. "At any given time, there are at least thirty Security personnel on base. Once they get the call that there's a new Subject, they'll pull in more as a precautionary measure. It's hard to say for certain, but I'd estimate..."
*
File: IJ 3927
Report: Security Footage (transcript) [excerpt]
ST 0963 (MEDICAL STAFF): I'm told that you've been refusing your meals. Have you been experiencing any nausea, or loss of appetite?
IJ 3927 (SUBJECT): Perhaps I was worried about you.
[pause]
IJ 3927: I did wonder if he was going to kill you. The poisoned lip gloss trick, maybe. He's very fond of that.
[pause]
IJ 3927: He did, didn't he? [laughter] Oh, that's too good. I'll have to tell Gwen about that, when she comes. She'll feel better, knowing she's not the only one.
ST 0963: Gwen Cooper? Do you have reason to believe that she's coming here?
IJ 3927: She's done it before. When I was on the ship, she...
[pause]
IJ 3927: No. No, that can't be right. I...
[pause]
IJ 3927: Lately, my dreams have been particularly vivid. I suppose it's a side effect. Of the medication. Just... just dreaming, though.
[pause]
IJ 3927: No nausea. My appetite's fine.
ST 0963: Would you like me to bring you something?
IJ 3927: Please.
[pause]
IJ 3927: For the record, I'm actually rather relieved that you're not dead. Just... for the record.
*
Gwen lay on the camp bed until long after Archie's flat had fallen silent around her, mind racing, unable to sleep. She knew she should rest, knew she'd be sorry in the morning if she didn't, but knowing didn't help her. Not when that was pretty much the only thing she really did know.
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 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 Simon 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 Simon 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 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 Hart, or Simon, for that matter. She knew so little about the doctor, who he was, what he really wanted. And everything she knew about Hart told her she was making a mistake.
At least she had Jack and Andy. She trusted Jack (most of the time), and she knew Andy wouldn't betray her. And that was something.
But it wasn't enough. It didn't 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 bed and padded to the door of her room. A cup of tea would be ideal. If Jack were awake, perhaps they could have a cup together. They wouldn't talk about anything important, and anything he said would probably make her feel worse than she had before, but it was still better than lying awake, doubting everything. And if Jack wasn't awake, or if he'd gone out, seeking solitude or a one night stand or just a decent coffee, she could at least occupy herself for five minutes or so.
As it happened, Jack was awake; she could hear him in Archie's room, talking. "It doesn't make sense," Jack said. "Even if they did have access to the TARDIS, that year never happened. We undid it. And anything they did..."
"Beg pardon, Jack, but you're assuming it took place during that year." Archie's voice was pitched low, but it carried just enough for Gwen to hear it. "Granted, I'm not the expert here, but as the TARDIS is capable of traveling through time, couldn't it have happened before? Or after?"
Jack was quiet for a few moments; Gwen held her breath, waiting for a reply. Instead, she heard someone else's voice, too soft for her to make out the words. She didn't think it sounded like Andy. Curious, she tore her eyes from Archie's door and padded down the hallway, leaving Jack's answer behind her.
One of the living room windows had been propped open, and a breeze crept in, cold and damp. Gwen shivered in her t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, wishing she'd thought to grab a jumper or something. In the dim light, she could see Andy curled up on the sofa; he fidgeted, childlike in his sleep. There was no sign of anyone else in the room, and for a moment, she almost thought she'd been hearing things.
"Absolutely not," the voice said, and it was definitely Hart. He'd gone out on the fire escape to give himself a bit of privacy, then. Gwen tucked herself into the shadow of a bookcase, wishing she could get closer to it without risking the artifacts 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 both times 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," 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. 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.
Gwen huddled into the shadow of the bookshelf, wondering whether she should run and get Jack or just confront Hart there and then, when he took the choice from her hands. "Might as well come out, Gwen." She only hesitated a moment longer before climbing 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 hadn't spent all that much time around time travelers, but she knew, at least, what that meant.
Hart tapped his wrist strap. "Hazards of the job."
"The Time Agency?" Gwen's voice got a bit too loud, and Andy stirred again. 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 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 final 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 got 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?"
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. Or their past selves. Or any version of themselves at all. 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." Hart shook his head. "Don't tell me he hasn't told you about it. Used to be he couldn't shut up about it. 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--" Hart turned to look at her then, his eyes lost in shadow, his voice quiet and deadly serious. "Too many timelines depend on Jack Harkness's continued presence in the universe, 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 Hart, trying to make sense of it. "And he was still going to run away?" she asked.
Another shrug, and Hart turned back to stare at the skyline. "He was always a selfish bastard," he 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 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
Character/Pairing(s): Gwen, Andy, John Hart, Jack Harkness, Archie (Torchwood Two), Dr. Simon Tau (OC), Ianto Jones
Rating: R
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.
Summary: A CoE fixit. In which many things are discussed, including love, death, family, Morse Code, and a ship called the Valiant.
Chapter One Chapter Two
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.
This story was originally written for the first Torchwood Big Bang, and an earlier draft has been posted to this journal. So if the story looks familiar to you, that's why.
Much thanks to ambiguous_opal, who talked me through the first draft (so long ago!); kel_riley, who beta'd the final version; and tearoseandhoney, who stuck it out with me through three drafts and what must be about a year's worth of work by now. This fic would not exist without the three of you, and that's just facts.
File: IJ 3927
Report: INCIDENT REPORT 4/11, Subject Interview (transcript) [excerpt]
INTERVIEWER: So you don't think Captain Hart came to rescue you?
IJ 3927 (SUBJECT): Of course not. Why would he?
[pause]
IJ 3927: Unless he was going to give me to Jack as some sort of present, like he tried to do with Gray. Then I could turn evil and mad and somehow manage to coerce Hart into blowing some things up for me. Which could be fun, depending on what we blow up.
INTERVIEWER: You think Captain Harkness may have sent him?
IJ 3927: You focus on the strangest things sometimes.
INTERVIEWER: Do you think Captain Harkness sent him?
IJ 3927: No. I don't. Jack wouldn't send someone else to do his job. And he certainly wouldn't send Hart.
INTERVIEWER: Then why do you think Captain Hart would come here?
IJ 3927: I don't know. To gloat, maybe? See if he could find any good-looking doctors to kidnap? He must be pretty pleased with himself if that's the case. He got the best of the lot of you.
[pause]
IJ 3927: And no, I don't think my doctor was somehow involved in this. I don't think he let Hart in, and I don't think he let himself be taken. He was shocked as anything when Hart grabbed him.
INTERVIEWER: Your doctor? Which doctor would that be?
IJ 3927: It's not as if I know any of your names. The dark-haired one. The one that Hart kidnapped.
INTERVIEWER: You think of him as your doctor. Like a personal physician, perhaps, or...
IJ 3927: Like the only doctor in this place who hasn't killed me at least twice. How's that?
INTERVIEWER: You've grown fond of him.
[pause]
*
Jack had Ianto down on his knees, hands behind his head, Jack's gun pointed straight between Ianto's eyes and Gwen couldn't move, couldn't breathe, as the two men stared each other down. "I was struck down in battle," Ianto said, jaw tight, just barely shaking. "You owe me, Jack. You have to find a cure."
"You're already dead," Jack said, and fired, and Gwen couldn't even scream, could do nothing as Ianto fell back, laughing, laughing, blood spreading across his chest, and Ianto lay there, and he laughed. "I killed you!"
"I can't die," Ianto said, laughing, and Jack fired again, and Ianto's body lurched and fell back, and he was still laughing. "Not gonna die. Never gonna die." His voice was sing-song, turning savage when he added, "This is your fault, Jack."
And Jack kept firing, the report loud in Gwen's ears even as she turned and ran, Ianto's voice behind her, "O Captain, my Captain--" and the flicker of white robes, a white hand reaching out and she dodged it, running and running down metal floors, metal corridors, the sound of gunfire, but she was the one shooting now, men in black uniforms falling on either side of her, and somewhere in the distance she could hear Jack shouting, but she couldn't make out the words over all the gunfire.
Then there was a door at the end of the hall, swinging open, and she stopped, raising her gun, bracing herself. And it was Ianto coming out, but he was gone wrong, draped in metal and his face was flat, his footsteps heavy and loud. He was pushing Dr. Tau out in front of him like a shield, one hand holding Dr. Tau's arm twisted behind his back, the other arm (metal over pale skin) wrapped around Dr. Tau's throat.
"We can save him," Dr. Tau gasped, even as the grip tightened, choking him. "We owe him."
And she couldn't move, and she couldn't breathe, and somewhere in the distance, she could hear Jack shouting, "Gwen! Gwen!"
"Gwen?"
She jerked awake, papers spilling off her lap, eyes opening wide as she tried to re-orient herself, still gasping. It was dim, the room lightened only by the traces of streetlights coming in from outside, and a dim blue glow, which she thought might be a computer. She turned to look, and suddenly Jack's face was right there, right next to her, and she gasped again and flinched backwards into the couch cushions.
"Hey, hey," he murmured, trying for soothing and almost succeeding. "It's all right. It's only me, Gwen. It's only me."
Jack with a gun to Ianto's head. Jack shooting him, over and over and...
Gwen shut her eyes tight and shook her head. Dreams, that's all it was. "Sorry," she said, and took a deep breath, eyes still closed. When she opened them again, Jack had backed off a little bit, started to clear up the papers on the floor. When Gwen shifted, sitting up, she could hear papers crumpling under her arse, and winced. "I must have dozed off. What were we--"
"Gwen, it's past four in the morning. You've been out for six hours at least." Jack's rueful grin faded into a look of concern. "Not sleeping much, these days?"
The thought of telling him about her dreams, all of her dreams, came and went as fast as lightning. "Still recovering from Eddie's early days, I think," she lied, pulling a thick sheaf of papers from underneath her legs. "Not much of a sleeper, that boy."
"Yeah, they'll do that to you," Jack said. "I remember with Alice..." His voice died, then, and he quickly turned back to sorting through the papers in his hands.
Gwen did the same, staring down at the papers she'd unearthed from the creases of the sofa, trying to smooth them back into some semblance of neatness. It took her a moment to realize that she was reading the same word, over and over again: [redacted.][redacted.][redacted.] "Jack?" she asked, holding the paper out with somewhat shaky hands.
He laughed, a sound with no joy or humor in it. "Oh, right. That one's mine." He took the paper from her, placed it carefully in its file. "Yeah, it looks like there's a few things Dr. Tau's not supposed to know about me. Or a few things he doesn't want me to know about myself, although I don't think he'd be this clumsy about it."
The next page was the same, and the one after it. [redacted.][redacted.][redacted.] She thrust the bundle at Jack, quickly. He took the papers without looking up at her.
"There's a pattern," he murmured, absently. "Can't quite put my finger on it, but there's..." He shook his head. "I don't know. There's something, though. Something they're trying to hide."
"Think it's related to this?" Gwen asked, unable to stop herself leaning in. Patterns. She was usually good with finding patterns.
"Couldn't say." Jack shrugged, flipping absently through the rest of the pages. "Wouldn't surprise me." He laughed, and it was bitter and hard to listen to. "Probably shouldn't say that. Every time I think I can't be surprised..." He sighed and stuffed the rest of his papers back into their file.
"I could--" Jack raised an eyebrow at her, and she stopped short, realizing that he'd obviously not be too keen on letting her read the full report of his life, looking for patterns in it. "I'll get you a cup of tea," she said, pushing herself off the sofa.
He stood, too, looming over her, still as tall and broad-shouldered and imposing as he'd ever been. "You should go back to sleep," he said, quietly. "I'll just--"
"Thought we had a rule about you not giving me orders anymore, Jack," Gwen said, smiling at him to try and take some of the sting out of it. He ducked his head and turned away, and she touched the back of his arm. "Even if I wanted to, I'm not getting back to sleep. Not tonight. And since you're obviously not tired..."
Jack turned, looking down at her for a moment. There was an expression on his face that she couldn't quite name. Then he bent down and kissed her cheek. "Tea it is, then," he said, and led the way into the kitchenette before Gwen could figure out what had happened.
She thought, maybe, that she'd forgiven him a little bit.
"It's funny," Jack said, pushing through a beaded curtain and into the kitchenette. It was even smaller than the one at the Hub had been, with shelves full of strangely shaped biscuit tins. Gwen wondered if they were alien. Alien biscuit tins. Owen would have had a good laugh about that one. "There's always time for a cup of tea, isn't there? Even if the world is ending, there's a massive temporal paradox happening, and the Prime Minister is an insane alien mastermind bent on conquering the universe, there's still--"
"Did that really happen?" Gwen asked, picking up a jar of instant coffee from the shelf and shaking it in her hand. It looked to be about a century old; Archie must have unearthed it specifically for them. "An alien was the Prime Minister?"
Jack poured water into the electric kettle and plugged it in. Gwen rather thought he was purposely keeping his back to her. "It... Kind of. It's hard to explain."
Gwen frowned, thinking for a bit. "This would be the temporal paradox that was previously mentioned, then."
"Yeah." A rummage through the cupboards for mugs, sorting through tea tins until he found the one he wanted. He was definitely not looking at Gwen. "Ending the paradox reset time, which erased everything. Well, mostly everything. We still had an alien Prime Minister, but it was only for a day or two, not... you know, a year."
Prime Minister for a day. It pinged something deep inside her, some memory that wouldn't quite come to the surface. "But if it didn't happen, then how do you--"
"I was at the epicenter when it happened." Jack had stopped rummaging, stopped moving entirely; his hands rested on the countertop, trembling just a little bit. "You remember when John came through the Rift, the first time? We threw that bomb into the Rift, and when it exploded, it-- Well. It reset time. But we all remembered it. It's the same thing."
Right after Jack came back from his trip from the Doctor, when he wouldn't say where he'd been. Right after Harold Saxon had vanished. He'd only been Prime Minister for... two days, perhaps? And he'd been the one behind the Project, at least according to Archie's reckoning, and... "Jack," Gwen said, but didn't continue. Couldn't, not with the way he'd tensed up, shoulders hunched beneath the greatcoat and all at once, he was so fragile. "I... Is there milk, or does Archie not believe in that?"
Jack let out a slow breath. Relief, probably. "Just don't let him see you polluting good tea with it," he said. "It's in the fridge. And Gwen?" When she turned, he was staring down at the kettle, speaking to it and not to her. "If that really is... If it's really Ianto, that those people are holding... He's not going to be the same. Not after something like this. It... it changes people."
I died, Jack had told her, after he'd come back. I died so many times.
"I know," she said, and ducked behind the open refrigerator door before he could see the way her eyes had welled up again.
*
File: IJ 3927
Report: INCIDENT REPORT, 4/11
At approximately 0900 hours, Shield Program alerted security staff to the presence of an unknown intruder in the Project's Main Facility. Intruder was at this time aproximately 400 meters from observation room where Subject was being held, and appeared to have entered the building through the use of a Vortex Manipulator [see File: Shield Program, Report: Vortex Energy Detection]. Security staff converged on the location and discovered a Time Agent currently operating under the alias of Captain John Hart [see File: JH 7172, Report: Known Allies and Connections] on the verge of entering the observation room and reaching the Subject. Before security staff could neutralize the threat, the Time Agent managed to enter the observation room and take a member of the medical staff hostage. [see File: ST 0963, Report: INCIDENT REPORT, 4/11]. Although the Shield Program was at full functional capacity, the Time Agent was somehow able to circumvent the block on his teleportation ability and flee the scene, taking the member of medical staff with him.
The whereabouts of the Time Agent and ST 0963 are currently unknown. It is not known whether ST 0963 was an accomplice of the Time Agent's, or if either he or the Time Agent were responsible for the failure of the Shield Program. Should ST 0963 or any other member of the Project's staff be determined to have caused either the intrusion, the kidnapping of a member of staff, or the failure of the Shield Program, said staff member will be immediately terminated in accordance with protocol.
*
"Gwen!" The relief in Rhys's voice was palpable, even across all those miles. "Everything all right, then? All... arrived, safely, and all of that?"
"Yes, yes, just checked in at the hotel." Gwen glanced around her room, at the duffel bag, contents spilling out over the floor, the laptop left open on the bed, as if she was in the midst of checking something. It wasn't a bad room, really -- lovely large bed, private balcony, all the rest of it. She wondered where the bugs were, all the little recording devices and monitors and the rest of it. Phone, definitely. Smoke detector, most likely. Television, perhaps. Were there any cameras? She cringed at the thought. "How's the home front? Is His Highness behaving himself?"
"Ah, it's not been so bad, really. Wanting a bit more attention, maybe, but that's to be expected. Thought I'd take him to the park in a bit, let him... I don't know, eat sand. And bugs. Sand and bugs. Maybe see if that little blonde girl's there; he can pull her hair and then try to make off with her toys again, like last time."
Gwen opened a drawer, found it empty, closed it again. "He's flirting. Takes after his dad, he does."
"Got to start them young." Gwen opened another drawer (also empty), and closed it. "So. Have you... have you gone in to see Gran, yet?"
And of course her husband would have already realized she couldn't tell him what she was doing or where she was, and of course he'd have already figured out a cover for her, because her husband was brilliant. "Haven't been able," she said, sinking down on the bed. "Her doctors say she's not ready for visitors just yet. But I'll let you know as soon as I get in."
"But you've talked to them? Her doctors, I mean?"
"Just the one," Gwen said. "He's good, though. I mean, he seems to really care what happens, so... At least she's in good hands, right?"
"Yeah. Guess so." Rhys was quiet for a moment; in the background, Gwen could hear her son, gabbling and cooing away, banging at the tray of his high chair. "Well, and your Gran's always been pretty tough, hasn't she? All your people are."
"Your people, too. You've married into this lot now. For better or for worse."
It wasn't until Rhys's silence stretched several beats longer than it ought to have that Gwen realized just what she'd said. She wondered if she ought to correct herself, amend the statement, try to reassure him. But none of those options sounded like good ones, so she just waited, until he let out a sigh and said, "Guess I did, at that. Bit like marrying into the mob, isn't?"
"We're not that bad," Gwen protested. "Well. Most of us aren't."
"Yes, speaking of that. What's that Ca--" He caught himself before Jack's title slipped out. "That cousin of yours. Jack. He still around, or has he run off again and left you to handle everything?"
Gwen sighed, shaking her head. "It's not that easy for him, Rhys. You know he and Gran... It's different, their relationship." Different was probably putting it mildly, at that. As much as Gwen had loved both Jack and Ianto, and as aware as she'd been that they'd made each other happy, she'd never quite been able to put a finger on what they meant to each other. Which was probably the point. "It's been a hard few years for him."
"Not just him," Rhys muttered.
"Rhys." Gwen glanced at the clock; she'd have to get out on the streets soon, start being noticeable. The thought made her stomach twist. "After all he lost, and all at once? Yes, he's taking this badly, and no, I'm not happy about it. But it's hard to blame him, after everything."
"I know." Rhys's voice was quiet, maybe a bit thoughtful. Neither of them said anything for a few seconds, and Gwen was painfully aware that she had to go, had to keep moving, but she couldn't bear to cut the conversation off, either, just in case. "I wonder sometimes if... how it might have been different if..." He trailed off.
"I do, too." She wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but it didn't matter. If Ianto hadn't gone into Thames House. If it had been Rhys instead, or maybe even Gwen herself. She'd thought about all three, about all the things that might have been, if Jack had gone in alone, if they'd brought a suit or something for Ianto, if Tosh hadn't died, or Owen, or both of them, if if if and it never changed anything, but it didn't stop her wondering if it couldn't have been different somehow.
Rhys sighed. Then he made a faintly disgusted noise. "Sorry, love, I'd better go. I think someone needs a change of nappies."
Gwen laughed; she couldn't help it. "Bad, is it?"
"I'll spare you the details; you've enough on your plate as is. Give Gran my love when you see her. And keep an eye on that cousin of yours, will you?"
"I'll do my best." She only hesitated a second before adding, "Rhys? I love you."
"I love you, too, sweetheart. And I'll give Eddie a kiss from you. Only not, you know, now."
"Best not to," Gwen agreed. "I'll see you soon, darling. I love you."
"Love you, too," Rhys said, again, and then, "bye," and then he was gone.
Gwen sat on the bed for a minute, the laptop open next to her. Her duffel bag was still unzipped and spilling its contents over the floor by the wardrobe, the black UNIT kit prominent at the top. She shuddered, suddenly unwilling to make herself leave the hotel and go out into the streets. Then she took a deep breath, pushed herself to her feet, checked her gun and her fake UNIT badge, and left the room without looking back once.
*
File: IJ 3927
Report: INCIDENT REPORT 4/11, Debriefing -- ST 0963 (transcript) [excerpt]
ST 0963 (MEDICAL STAFF): He said... Oh God, what was it... He said I was a "real find." Those were his words, exactly. And he started... He began to describe my appearance. In... in some detail.
INTERVIEWER: Was there anything that seemed like it might be meaningful out of it? Some hint to his goals, why he came to the Facility, or...
ST 0963: Not that I can think of.
INTERVIEWER: And after that, did he--
ST 0963: Wait. There was... He said that he thought Jack would like me. That I was Jack's type.
INTERVIEWER: Meaning Captain Jack Harkness?
ST 0963: I believe so, yes.
INTERVIEWER: What were his exact words?
ST 0963: I don't remember.
INTERVIEWER: Did he say that Jack "would" like you or that Jack "is going" to like you?
ST 0963: He said...
[pause]
ST 0963: I'm sorry. I really don't remember.
INTERVIEWER: Think about it for a moment. What was the exact phrasing that he used?
ST 0963: I... You do realize that sodium thiopental is not actually a truth serum, don't you? It loosens your inhibitions, it makes you talk, but it doesn't--
[pause]
ST 0963: So this is what it's like, being on the other side.
INTERVIEWER: I'm not sure I'm following you. The other side of what?
ST 0963: Nothing. I... It doesn't matter.
INTERVIEWER: I see. And you don't remember what, exactly, Captain Hart said.
ST 0963: No. I don't.
INTERVIEWER: Witholding pertininent information is grounds for termination from the Project.
ST 0963: I was captured by a known enemy of the Project, transported away from the Facility, and drugged. I believe those are also grounds for termination.
INTERVIEWER: If you believed that you would not be terminated, would you be more willing to comply with--
ST 0963: I am complying. I just don't remember what he said.
INTERVIEWER: I see.
ST 0963: I was dizzy, I was frightened, I was...
INTERVIEWER: Of course. No one is accusing you of anything. I merely want the record to accurately reflect your experience.
ST 0963: Of course.
INTERVIEWER: Any decisions to be made regarding your status with the Project will be made by the Board, once they've reviewed all relevant information. Including this interview.
ST 0963: Of course.
INTERVIEWER: Now. You're certain you don't remember what Captain Hart said?
*
Gwen looked back over her shoulder, then in the other direction. A low mist had settled in, shrouding the dim streets, and what CCTV coverage there might have been in this area looked to have been temporarily taken out by vandals (or not by vandals, given Captain Hart's talent for hiding his own presence, and the presence of anyone else he cared to), but she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It had been growing on her all day, ever since she'd left the hotel and set out to make herself a target. It was a fine line she was treading, trying to keep the Project's eyes on her without ever letting them see what she was doing, and one misstep could ruin everything.
Footsteps sounded on the street, and she shrank back into the shadows without thinking, huddling into her coat. A tall, thin man with floppy hair and a wholly incongruous bowtie ambled past, giving her a smile and a wink before disappearing into the curry shop next to her. It was several seconds before she finally let her breath out in a sigh of relief. But almost as soon as she'd relaxed, she caught sight of headlights piercing the early-evening gloom, and she tensed up again.
It was a sedan, silver or maybe a very light gold, like Ianto's had been. Sleek without being flashy. Practical. It was, in fact, very like Ianto's car, and perhaps that was why Gwen wasn't surprised to see Dr. Tau climbing out of it, his topcoat swirling around his ankles, face muffled in his scarf. He left the engine running, didn't lock the doors. As he passed, he looked straight at her, just for a second, and nodded. Then he vanished into the curry shop without a word.
Gwen counted to ten. Then, with her collar pulled high and her shoulders hunched in, she hurried to Dr. Tau's car, slid into the passenger's seat, and shut the door behind her. She sank into the seat, trying to make herself as invisible as possible, and waited.
Four minutes passed. Five. There was a strange buzzing sound coming from the radio; it was familiar, but Gwen couldn't quite place it. Six minutes. Gwen dug her mobile from her pocket, brought it close to the radio. The buzzing got louder. Seven minutes. What was it Tosh had said about remote bugs? She'd had this gadget-- Gwen remembered that much-- it had a sort of spinny thing on the end of it, and Owen'd said she was going about it all wrong, that she was making it too complicated, that--
At eight minutes thirty, Dr. Tau slid in at the driver's side with an armful of takeaway, saw Gwen holding her phone up to the radio, with the buzzing still going, and actually smiled. "One sec," he mouthed, turning to deposit their dinner in the backseat. Then he took her phone from her nerveless fingers, flipped it open, and turned it off. The buzzing kept going. He shut the phone again, opened the back cover, and took the battery out.
The buzzing stopped.
Gwen felt distinctly stupid, her cheeks flaming as she took her phone (and its battery) back. She couldn't meet Dr. Tau's eyes, so it surprised her that he sounded so apologetic when he said, "A friend of mine taught me that. It's a bit primitive, but it does get the job done. Of course, you can't use the phone now."
"That's all right," Gwen murmured. The little car purred faintly as they pulled away from the curb, down the rapidly darkening streets. There was another blue police box on the corner. Glasgow was littered with them, seemed like. "Rhys won't mind if the phone is off. He'll understand."
"You can put the battery back in when we get to Torchwood Two," Dr. Tau said. "Archie's got this... well, I'm not really sure how it works, but I trust him when he says that it does. And, of course, John's vortex manipulator kills any tracking signals within a ten-meter radius." He gave her a sidelong glance before adding, "Although he'll claim that you really have to be a good deal closer."
Gwen turned to look at him, to study him for a bit. "Do you trust him?" she asked. When Dr. Tau blinked at her, she clarified. "Captain Hart, I mean. Do you trust him?"
Dr. Tau chewed his lip. "I do," he said, finally, his voice thoughtful. "But then, I don't really have much choice, do I? If it was different, if it wasn't... I can't say for sure that I would, otherwise." He paused for a moment. "I know what my parents would think."
"So you and he..." Gwen didn't elaborate, didn't need to. It was obvious by the flush on Simon's face that he knew just what she was talking about.
"We... ah..." He rubbed at the back of his neck, laughed, embarrassed. "A few times, back at the beginning. I think he wanted... I think he felt he had to convince me, and that... that was his way of doing it. I don't know if we should be talking about this, there might be other bugs in the car or..."
Gwen frowned, trying to work it out in her head. "But I thought... I mean, you found him, right? So wouldn't--"
"Oh no." Simon laughed again, carefully steering the car through a corner. "God no. I wouldn't have even known where to start. No, he found me. Kidnapped me, actually. It's kind of a funny story..." Glancing at her, he trailed off. "What?"
"It's just... How did he know about Ianto, then? If you weren't the one to tell him."
Simon didn't answer her, not right away. He pulled up outside of Archie's flat, stopped the car, and turned it off. Neither of them moved to get out of it, and finally, Simon spoke. "I don't know," he said, quietly. "I never thought to ask. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't answer me if I did, or if he did answer, that it wouldn't be true."
Gwen opened her mouth to ask another question, to press him further, but Simon stopped her with an upraised hand. "I do know, however, that he isn't going to betray us. Not with this. He wants Ianto free, as much as any of us do. More, quite possibly. He wouldn't jeopardize that."
"Why?" It was all Gwen could think of to ask.
"I don't know," Simon said. He shook his head. "I really don't."
Then, without another word, he climbed out of the car.
*
File: IJ 3927
Report: INCIDENT REPORT 4/11, Final Status Decision re: ST 0963
Although medical staff member ST 0963 was captured by a known enemy of the Project, he was not held for any significant length of time, nor does it appear that he divulged any information to said enemy. There is no evidence to suggest that he was in any way complicit with the break-in at the Project's main facility, nor that he had anything to do with the enemy's subsequent escape. Nor is there any reason to believe that ST 0963 would attempt to engage said enemy again for any reason upon his resumption of normal duties. ST 0963 has furthermore been compliant with the methods and goals of this investigation, and although aware of the risk of termination should he have been judged to be responsible for any aspect of this incident, he does not appear to have attempted to sabotage the investigation, nor to engage in any other act that might harm the Project. It is the conclusion of the Board that ST 0963 should be immediately returned to his normal duties, without probationary period, and with no need for another member of medical staff to shepherd him through his duties. Furthermore, it is the conclusion of the Board that the current monitoring of ST 0963 is adequate, and that there is no need for any additional surveillance.
Further investigation as to the cause and motives of the break-in at the Project's main Facility shall be continued, as will all investigations into the current whereabouts of Captain John Hart. Any staff member proven to have had contact with or to have assisted Captain John Hart shall be subject to termination in accordance with current protocol.
*
Gwen couldn't keep her eyes off Hart, watching his expressions as he hunched behind Simon, studying the Facility's blueprints spread out on the floor of Archie's flat.
"There's an empty Observation room here, just down the hall from Mr. Jones," Simon explained, tapping the blueprints to point out the room. "That's where we'll take Mrs. Cooper. Once Captain Hart starts his... his distraction, we'll be able to get out and down to Mr. Jones. He's kept sedated, of course, but I've been... altering the doses as much as I can, and it shouldn't take much to bring him around. There is, though... I'm not sure if..."
Simon fell silent, then, his hand trembling on the map, and Gwen looked to Jack in alarm. "What's wrong?" Jack asked, his voice quiet.
"I'm losing him." Simon looked up at Jack, his eyes troubled. "There's... He isn't always... aware. Of where he is, or what's happening. I thought it was the drugs, at first; the combination's pretty potent and it's not like we've been moderate with the dosage, but... I've been lowering them for weeks now. Diluting them. But it's not getting any better. If anything, it's getting worse. I can bring him around, given enough time, but..."
"We may not have that time," Jack finished. His voice was calm enough, but his face was pained.
He's not going to be the same. Not after something like this.
"I have no idea how he's going to react to seeing the two of you," Simon said, glancing at Gwen, then at Jack. "You especially, Captain Harkness. He... When he's not lucid, when he's... He seems to think that you're being held as well. That we've got you in chains. In the 'engine room,' although I'm not sure where he's getting that, since we don't..." He frowned, studying Jack carefully; Jack was holding himself rigid, his face suspiciously blank. "It's possible that he's remembering something that happened to the two of you, some time that the two of you were held captive under similar circumstances. There's nothing in the files to suggest such a thing ever happened, but--"
"How have you been bringing him around?" Jack asked, cutting him off.
Simon studied him a little longer, before sighing and leaning back. "Morse code," he said. "We've been using it to communicate-- the room is heavily monitored, of course, but if we keep the movements small and the sound relatively quiet, it doesn't show up on the cameras or in the mics. It works best when there's physical contact; I think the element of tactile stimulation helps to..." Apparently Jack didn't seem to quite understand; Simon sighed again, then reached across the blueprints to clasp Jack's hand. "Like this," he said, tapping lightly on the back of Jack's hand with one finger.
For a moment, Gwen thought Jack would pull away, but then he closed his eyes, as if to better focus on the message being passed from Simon to himself. When Simon withdrew, Jack didn't open his eyes. "TW1?" he asked, quietly.
"It's his call sign," Simon said. "Not sure where it comes from, but that's what it is. 'SAFE' and 'HOME' are our key words; he tends to respond strongly to them, snaps out of it faster. And 'NO SHIP' -- when he's... not aware, that's usually where he thinks he is. On a ship of some sort. I..." He stopped before he could say what he was about to say, or ask what he was about to ask, and shook his head. "You should introduce yourself first. Then start in on his key words. Don't say anything more, or attempt to explain things; it won't sink in. You'll probably have to repeat yourself a few times. Just be patient. You'll know when he's come out of it."
"But you'll be there," Andy said, hesitantly. "Won't you? I mean, once we've got him out and everything, you'll be helping us take care of him. Right?"
Simon glanced over at Andy. "I don't know," he said, quietly. "Getting to Mr. Jones is the easy part. Getting him out... Most of the active Security force will be sent to the Guard Station, to deal with Captain Hart. The rest will be dispatched to guard the exits, and to guard the Subjects. If we're lucky, we'll have just enough time to get Mr. Jones on his feet; I'll have a wheelchair ready in his room if that doesn't seem feasible. After that..." He shrugged. "After that we fight our way free."
Jack raised an eyebrow at him. "You've fired a gun before?"
"I--" Another look over the shoulder at Hart; the Time Agent had turned suddenly smug, and a blush was starting at the top of Simon's cheekbones. Gwen remembered her gun training sessions with Jack, and couldn't quite suppress a roll of her eyes. "A few times. I wouldn't say I'm particularly good at it, but I'll do my best."
"Oh, come now. You weren't as bad as all that." Hart's tone was less crude than Gwen had expected, albeit not by very much. "Could do with more practice, I'll grant you, but you've got a steady hand." He paused for just a moment before adding, "Very firm grip. And a good--"
"This isn't like shooting at paper targets, you know," Jack said. "They'll be moving, firing back, shouting... screaming. Are you sure you're going to be ready for that?"
Simon shook his head. "No," he said, calmly. "I'm not sure it's possible to be ready for something like that. But I'll try."
Jack turned to look at Andy. "How about you? John said he was going to show you--"
Hart cleared his throat. "Not necessary, as it turns out. Your PC Davidson is quite the marksman. Although I'd thought the police in this part of the world didn't carry firearms."
Gwen stared at Andy, a bit shocked. He looked down at his hands. "Well. I mean, with half the city blown up and those weevil things everywhere and only the three of you to stop them and God knows what else we've got in Cardiff... It made sense, really, to have a bit more than just some pepper spray and a baton to defend myself with. Let alone other people; I mean..."
"Andy," Gwen said, quietly. "Who taught you to fire a gun, if it wasn't Captain Hart?"
Andy finally met her gaze, his own eyes somewhat defiant. "He did," he said, quietly. "Ianto did."
"And he took you to Flat Holm, didn't he? Introduced you around. Explained what you needed to do." It had never occurred to Gwen to ask how Andy'd known what needed to be done, why he was so ready to take over. She'd just let him do it, no questions, no doubts, and he'd stepped in as unceremoniously as Ianto would've. Doing what needed to be done.
"Reckon he didn't want the two of you to be at loose ends should something happen to him," Andy said. "Didn't talk about it much, not really. Just sort of..."
Jack reached out and took Gwen's hand, squeezed it. She leaned slightly into his warmth. "How often have you used a gun, Andy? Apart from target practice. How many times?"
Andy shrugged. "Three times. Not this sort of situation, mind. Not... people. But I'll do what has to be done."
"Yeah," Jack said, quietly. "Yeah, I guess you will."
For some reason, Gwen felt drawn to look at Hart again; he was staring at Jack in the strangest way. His face was hard, but it wasn't angry. Determined, perhaps. For a moment, Gwen felt sure he was going to say something, reveal his motives with some slip of the tongue. Instead, he clapped his hands, and said, "Good. We're all ready to kill people. Fantastic. I'm sure your parents are very proud. Now, numbers. About how many do you think we'll be facing, Dr. Tau?"
Simon gave him a disbelieving look, then shook his head and turned back to the map, to his explanations and plans. "At any given time, there are at least thirty Security personnel on base. Once they get the call that there's a new Subject, they'll pull in more as a precautionary measure. It's hard to say for certain, but I'd estimate..."
*
File: IJ 3927
Report: Security Footage (transcript) [excerpt]
ST 0963 (MEDICAL STAFF): I'm told that you've been refusing your meals. Have you been experiencing any nausea, or loss of appetite?
IJ 3927 (SUBJECT): Perhaps I was worried about you.
[pause]
IJ 3927: I did wonder if he was going to kill you. The poisoned lip gloss trick, maybe. He's very fond of that.
[pause]
IJ 3927: He did, didn't he? [laughter] Oh, that's too good. I'll have to tell Gwen about that, when she comes. She'll feel better, knowing she's not the only one.
ST 0963: Gwen Cooper? Do you have reason to believe that she's coming here?
IJ 3927: She's done it before. When I was on the ship, she...
[pause]
IJ 3927: No. No, that can't be right. I...
[pause]
IJ 3927: Lately, my dreams have been particularly vivid. I suppose it's a side effect. Of the medication. Just... just dreaming, though.
[pause]
IJ 3927: No nausea. My appetite's fine.
ST 0963: Would you like me to bring you something?
IJ 3927: Please.
[pause]
IJ 3927: For the record, I'm actually rather relieved that you're not dead. Just... for the record.
*
Gwen lay on the camp bed until long after Archie's flat had fallen silent around her, mind racing, unable to sleep. She knew she should rest, knew she'd be sorry in the morning if she didn't, but knowing didn't help her. Not when that was pretty much the only thing she really did know.
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 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 Simon 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 Simon 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 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 Hart, or Simon, for that matter. She knew so little about the doctor, who he was, what he really wanted. And everything she knew about Hart told her she was making a mistake.
At least she had Jack and Andy. She trusted Jack (most of the time), and she knew Andy wouldn't betray her. And that was something.
But it wasn't enough. It didn't 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 bed and padded to the door of her room. A cup of tea would be ideal. If Jack were awake, perhaps they could have a cup together. They wouldn't talk about anything important, and anything he said would probably make her feel worse than she had before, but it was still better than lying awake, doubting everything. And if Jack wasn't awake, or if he'd gone out, seeking solitude or a one night stand or just a decent coffee, she could at least occupy herself for five minutes or so.
As it happened, Jack was awake; she could hear him in Archie's room, talking. "It doesn't make sense," Jack said. "Even if they did have access to the TARDIS, that year never happened. We undid it. And anything they did..."
"Beg pardon, Jack, but you're assuming it took place during that year." Archie's voice was pitched low, but it carried just enough for Gwen to hear it. "Granted, I'm not the expert here, but as the TARDIS is capable of traveling through time, couldn't it have happened before? Or after?"
Jack was quiet for a few moments; Gwen held her breath, waiting for a reply. Instead, she heard someone else's voice, too soft for her to make out the words. She didn't think it sounded like Andy. Curious, she tore her eyes from Archie's door and padded down the hallway, leaving Jack's answer behind her.
One of the living room windows had been propped open, and a breeze crept in, cold and damp. Gwen shivered in her t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms, wishing she'd thought to grab a jumper or something. In the dim light, she could see Andy curled up on the sofa; he fidgeted, childlike in his sleep. There was no sign of anyone else in the room, and for a moment, she almost thought she'd been hearing things.
"Absolutely not," the voice said, and it was definitely Hart. He'd gone out on the fire escape to give himself a bit of privacy, then. Gwen tucked herself into the shadow of a bookcase, wishing she could get closer to it without risking the artifacts 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 both times 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," 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. 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.
Gwen huddled into the shadow of the bookshelf, wondering whether she should run and get Jack or just confront Hart there and then, when he took the choice from her hands. "Might as well come out, Gwen." She only hesitated a moment longer before climbing 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 hadn't spent all that much time around time travelers, but she knew, at least, what that meant.
Hart tapped his wrist strap. "Hazards of the job."
"The Time Agency?" Gwen's voice got a bit too loud, and Andy stirred again. 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 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 final 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 got 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?"
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. Or their past selves. Or any version of themselves at all. 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." Hart shook his head. "Don't tell me he hasn't told you about it. Used to be he couldn't shut up about it. 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--" Hart turned to look at her then, his eyes lost in shadow, his voice quiet and deadly serious. "Too many timelines depend on Jack Harkness's continued presence in the universe, 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 Hart, trying to make sense of it. "And he was still going to run away?" she asked.
Another shrug, and Hart turned back to stare at the skyline. "He was always a selfish bastard," he 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 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.