Just Like A Jones 5/25
TITLE: Just Like A Jones
Chapter: 5/25
Rating: g - nc-17 for the whole series
Pairing/Characters: Jack/Ianto. Mica. Gwen/Rhys. Lois. Johnny/Rhiannon. OC's
Synopsis: Mica may be a Davies, but sometimes she acts like a Jones. Set 13 years in the future. The world is a very different place, and Torchwood is a world that Jack doesn't want to know, but a promise made a long time ago brings him back to their door whether he likes it or not. Mica is in awe of a past she didn't know and a man she barely remembers, but her passion for his world takes her on a journey she never expected.
Spoilers: Aftermath of COE.
Disclaimer: Not mine, if it was this woul not need to be written.
A/N - I shall make you happy! jut watch me! happy fix.
Comments are always appreciated. i havent been bak i fandom long and I do need a confidence boost atm :(.
PART 1 HERE, PART 2 HERE, PART 3 HERE, PART 4 HERE
“Jack!” Mica pulled the Weevil off Jack and sat on the ground beside him, touching the blood on his neck. “Uncle Jack!” She shook him violently by the lapels of his coat and pulled his head onto her lap, slapping his cheeks. “Come on! Please!”
Jack showed no signs of moving, and the blood from his neck was still flowing over Mica's fingers, seeping into the creases of her skin. His eyes were locked open, cold and dead; his mouth was open too, still in the midst of a scream that never got the chance to escape.
“Jack!” Mica held onto him, holding him close against her; she touched his cheek and caressed his face, looking at the coldness of his eyes as they stayed open, staring. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart started to beat just a little faster.
“Jack?” Her voice started to crack and a lump in her throat formed; her eyes felt hot, stinging from unwelcome tears, and she felt the cracks in her heart break again. She sniffed back tears and took a deep breath, then shook him again. Mica repeated his name but her mouth wouldn't let it escape; she was starting to loose hope. Her Uncle's diaries had talked about the many deaths of Jack. He had written about how the blood would just disappear, wounds would heal and Jack would wake with a burst of life and a gasping breath; he also wrote that one day he was scared he wouldn't. That day had come.
“Oh God!” Mica dropped his body and stood up; she pressed her hands to her face, leaving fingerprints of blood on her cheeks. “Oh God, Jack.”
She looked around, cold and alone, and crushed the skull of the Weevil beside her with the heel of her boot out of anger, then did it again and again until the bone was crushed into the dirt. A sound came from behind her; one of them was trying to move and she knew she had to act fast.
She dragged them towards the thickest tree one by one using every ounce of strength she could muster, then grabbed the thick rope from her bag. She tied them to it binding them as tightly as she could then collapsed on the ground. Mica wept into the dirt, mixing the blood underneath her fingernails with sodden mud, and glared into the dead eyes of the monsters as they slowly regained consciousness. She found her strength and stood up, dragging dirt into her eyes as he tried to wipe away her tears, then fell back down.
Her tears stopped flowing suddenly when she heard a gasp from behind her, and she got up, stumbling over to Jack as she woke.
“Jack!” She flung her arms around him as he came back to life. “I thought you had--”
“I wish.” His voice was groggy and when she helped him sit up he groaned in pain. He turned his head to one side and his neck made a loud clicking noise. “Ah! Not had that painful a death for a while.”
“I'm so sorry!” She helped him to his feet and supported his large frame. “We should go before they get here.”
“Before who get here?”
“Shit!” Mica saw a light shining through the trees and pulled Jack into the bushes, pushing him in before she joined him.
“This is no time for hide and seek!” Jack whispered. “Now are you going to tell me--”
Mica put her hand over his mouth. “Shh!”
Jack looked between the gap in the bushes and focussed on the bright light, watching with shock as he saw Gwen Cooper come into view. She looked older, but it as definitely her; she was still alive.
“Bloody Hell!” Gwen crouched down on the ground beside the weevil and poked the inside of its head with the tip of her gun. “That's just lovely.”
“Looks like Zorro could handle herself after all.” Tim joined Gwen and put on a pair of examination gloves, then turned the Weevil onto its front. “It was shot before its head was flattened.” He opened his bag and took out a pair of tweezers, then used them to pick out the tranquillizer from its back.
“Is it the same?”
“Yeah. Definitely Zorro.” he inspected the bullet. “I would love to know where she got these made. They're almost as good as ours.”
“Why Weevils though?” Gwen took out her gun and shot the waking Weevils between the eyes, sending them back into their paralytic state. “Why not something else?”
“No idea.”
Gwen looked around. “Well, she's nowhere to be seen now. Let's get these boys back to the hub before they wake up again.”
~~~~~*~~~~~
Mica splashed her face with cold water then leaned on the sink before looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot, still encrusted with a little dirt, but at least her face was clean. She swept her hair back again, pulling it into a ponytail and took a deep breath. She was a mes.
She walked out of the bathroom and back into the all-night café, sitting opposite Jack. She hung her head low and wrapped her hands around the hot cup of coffee; she needed it.
“So, are you going to explain to me exactly what you were playing at.”
Mica stayed silent and looked down at her hands; she couldn't look at him, she couldn't meet his eyes, not when she knew the look that she would find there. Between her father, her mother and Jack she felt suffocated. She had been wrapped in cotton wool her whole life, stopped from so much as crossing the road without a health ad safety assessment, and now he was being stared at in that usual way. She was the baby of the family, the one who couldn't take are of herself, at least in everyone else's eyes but her own, and that was something she knew she would never change.
“It has nothing to do with you,” she said, “I have a life of my own.”
“Obviously.”
“You had no right to follow me Jack.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
“You want to know?” She asked, leaning over the table. “You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Because it's what he did.” Mica raised his eyes to look at him. “It's how he met you. It was the start of the rest of his life. I want to know the life he lived first hand.”
“A Weevil almost tore out your jugular!” Jack shouted at her under his breath.
“Exactly, almost.” She spat. “Almost being the operative word. Your jugular, however, wasn't quite so lucky though, was it?”
“I was saving your ass.”
“I was safe.” She took his hand. “I know what what I'm doing, just let me live my life. Please?”
“You could have got hurt.”
“I was fine until you came along with your big flappy coat and hero act and stuck your ore in.”
“You almost got yourself killed.”
“I know and I love it.” She smiled. “It's fun.”
Jack laughed, more from bemusement than anything else. “Fun?”
“Yes.”
“Fun?!” He laughed again and repeated the word to himself in disbelief. “Fun. It was fun?”
“Yeah, fun, you remember what that's like, don't you Jack? Or is that part of you gone too?”
“Ianto died--”
“Oh give it a rest!” She stoop up and dropped some money onto the table then leaned on the back of the chair as she tucked it in. “You go on and on about how he died, it's like you forget that he ever lived.”
~~~~~*~~~~~
Gwen sat at her desk and searched through her database as she took a sip of her cold coffee. It was quiet in the hub now that the others had gone home to their families and their beds, but she had something to do before she could get back. The facial recognition database was starting to help her build up a clearer picture of Jack's movements over the last thirteen years. He had visited the Cromwell estate much more than she had first thought; a few times in 2010, then again in 2011. After that he had started to visit a lot more often. In 2012 his face had popped up on the database seventy-nine times, yet he hadn't been back to Torchwood. He hadn't come back for her.
She clicked on one of the old Images and loaded the recording of one such visit in 2015, seven years ago, and watched it. Two kids seemed very happy to see him and ran across the estate to greet him, followed by two faces that Gwen remembered clearly.
She closed her eyes and sighed, shutting down the software, then picked up her phone and dialled a number.
“Hello, is that Rhiannon?” She smiled. “Gwen Cooper, I'm sorry to call so late.”
~~~~~*~~~~~
Jack followed Mica down the street, jogging after her until he caught up.
“Mica!”
He was running by the time he finally caught up with her, matching her pace; Jack Harkness may have been immortal but he wasn't immune from passing out from a stitch. He pulled at her arm, but she moved away.
“Wait!” Jack finally pulled her to a stop.
Mica turned around. “I'm not Alice you know!”
Jack stepped back, shocked by her words; he hadn't heard that name mentioned for a very long time. “What?”
“I'm not your daughter!”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” she asked. “Are you sure, because you spend more time behaving like my father than you do my friend.”
Jack regained his breath. “Am I so wrong for wanting to keep you safe?”
She calmed down and sighed. “I have reasons for wanting to live my life this way, would it really be so hard to respect them? I'm not five years old any more Jack, I'm big enough to tie my own shoes and make my own decisions.”
“I can't bear to see you end up like him.”
Mica sighed, and then smiled. “But he ended up a hero Jack, you told me that so many times. I'm proud of who he was.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “That's why I'm doing this.”
“And what are you doing?”
“I'm going to get into myself into Torchwood.”
He shook his head. “The hell you are.”
“I wasn't asking your permission.”
PART 6 NOW HERE