BAMSR (3/4)
Title: Be All My Sins Remembered (3/4)
Author: nancybrown
Artist: rexluscus
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, Martha, Lois, Johnson, Mickey, OCs
Warnings: poor understanding of time travel, even poorer understanding of 40s era British military systems, angst, character death
Rating: R
Word Count: 27,500 (7500 this part)
Beta(s): queenfanfiction audienced this, while wynkat1313 and fide_et_spe both kicked it into shape, and you have them to thank if it makes any kind of coherent sense
Spoilers: up through CoE (characters only)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Art by rexluscus
***
Chapter Three
***
Morning came too soon, and Gwen dragged herself from bed and went to the loo. The test she'd picked up said to use it with the first wee of the day. Three minutes later, she had a wet stick and something that could have been a plus and could have been a defect in the background image.
She sighed. Her mate Candace back in uni had taken three tests like this, come up negative all three times, and delivered a boy eight months later.
Gwen squinted at the results window again. She could take it with her and ask Martha to read it, but if she left it too long, didn't the results change? She could take the other one in the pack with her. But Martha was going to give her a blood test anyway.
Stomach in knots, she buried the used test in the bin under everything else, and hid the second test in the back of the cupboard again. There was always tomorrow morning. Then she slipped back out into her bedroom.
She was exhausted all the time. It would only get worse from here on out. As she dressed quietly, she watched Rhys sleep for the extra half hour he got to lie in after her. The story she knew was that when Torchwood touched you, it changed you forever. The sheer weight of the knowledge of aliens and utter shit that lurked around every corner was enough to drag down the noblest heart in despair, and frankly, Torchwood never went recruiting among the noble-hearted. Jack carried the darkness with him like an extra coat. Ianto admitted it was crushing him to death slowly. Martha could slip away alive because she knew she was leaving eventually, and Johnson had come pre-equipped with personal demons. Lois reminded Gwen so much of her own early, innocent days, making her wonder how long it would be until the younger woman came to work every morning with the same sense of hopelessness Gwen had tried so desperately not to acquire.
But Rhys knew. He'd seen the aliens, and he'd helped fight, and he knew about the evils in the stars and down in the sewers, and still he greeted Gwen every evening with a smile and a kiss. He shrugged off the darkness and ignored it, taking on all the world's troubles without (much of) a complaint, nor with broody silences. He was the rock on which she'd built the last of her faith in the world. She loved him so much.
He cracked an eye open. "Aren't you going to be late?" His face was half-buried in his pillow, and it came out as a mumble, and she loved him even more.
"I'm going."
Gwen placed a hand over her stomach. So far, no nausea today. If she pressed, she could feel her own heart beating against her palm.
"I love you," she said, and bent over and gave him a kiss. He mumbled again and was quiet.
***
He half-listened to another serenade from Jack along with the morning radio programme. Ianto nodded sleepily, still tired, always tired. Only when Jack made a different turn than usual did Ianto wake up enough to notice the change. "Taking the scenic route?"
"I've decided we're going to participate in 'Take Your Child to Work Day.'"
Ianto thought this had "terrible idea" written all over it, but he was long accustomed to Jack's expression when he was set on something and merely said, "Playing catch-up?"
"As much as I can. Spend some time with him, show him around. I was never good at the dad stuff. This could be fun." He hummed along with the radio. "You'd make a good dad."
"I wouldn't. I don't even like children." Ianto pulled a face. "I pay my niece and nephew to not bother me when I'm at my sister's."
"I thought that's what you were doing. You should try playing with them. They love that."
They did. Jack had easily won over David and Mica's approval by the simple expedient of acting like a big kid whenever he was in the room with them. Rhiannon adored Jack (after Ianto had assured her Jack had nothing to do with his broken arm) and Johnny treated him like one of the lads. Johnny hadn't treated Ianto like one of the lads even when they'd been in school. Ianto's family liked Jack.
"You get along fine with Steven."
"I run out of conversational topics right after we've exhausted 'So, I see you're a child, then.'"
Jack laughed. "And Alice likes you better than she likes me."
"First, while you insist on treating her like she's sixteen, Alice is in no way a child, and second, she also likes Johnson more than she likes you." That hit, and Jack frowned. Ianto regretted it instantly, but truth tended to be painful. "Sorry."
Jack brushed it off. "Anyway, when it's your own kid, it's a whole different world. The things that annoy you about other kids are cute when it's yours."
"I'm sure."
"You'll see."
The base emotion growing in his stomach since Jack's first off-hand remark finally boiled to the surface. "We need to stop this conversation."
They pulled to a stop at a light. "Why?"
"Because I'm not having children, and I don't see the point in pretending otherwise. Unless," he amended, "this is your ham-fisted attempt to tell me you're pregnant, in which case I need to go get very drunk now."
"Nah, the technology for that won't be widespread until the thirty-third century." The light changed.
Ianto sighed. Jack was missing the point, intentionally or not. "You're not pregnant, then. Good." He turned up the radio.
Jack turned it down again. "What's eating you?"
"Nothing."
"No, not nothing. I'm used to you being pissed off at me, but I usually already know why."
He closed his eyes. "Jack, how long do you think I'm going to live?"
Jack opened his mouth, a quick answer always at the ready. Then he shut it again. He changed his posture, driving with one knee and placing a soft hand on Ianto's arm, which Ianto shrugged away.
"You're not going to die." Funny. He couldn't even say it like he was making himself believe the words.
"Can we please stop discussing this?"
"All right." His voice was chastened, quiet, and the upset feeling grew again. Not only was Ianto depressed and moody, he was dragging Jack into it, and Jack was the one who usually pulled him out. Bad situation before his first coffee of the day.
In a lighter tone, he said, "What are you going to show him in the Hub?"
Jack appeared grateful for the distraction, but then, he usually was. "I'll start with the pterodactyl. Kids like dinosaurs."
Harrison wasn't a "kid" by any definition, but Ianto didn't correct him, instead settled back into his seat as Jack started singing again.
***
Phil woke with the sounds of traffic outside his window. The bed wasn't much, but it was nicer than the bedroll he was used to these past several weeks, and he spent a few minutes just enjoying the feel of the sheets. He had simple, clean pyjamas, and two fresh changes of clothes that would fit, and down the hallway, a shower with hot water that never ran out. He took his time with each, and went down the narrow stairs to find Fletcher already in the kitchen, drinking coffee and staring outside into the slanted morning light.
"That smells good," Phil said in way of greeting.
"Better than boiled in an old boot," Fletcher replied. Phil poured a generous measure from the percolator and then scrounged for food in the boxy refrigerator.
"How are you holding up?"
"This is all a very strange dream. I'll wake up shortly and tell you I thought we went into the future and saw your cousin there. You'll mock me for dreaming about Jack, and I'll forget by dinner."
Phil smiled. "Good enough."
"Why are we here, Phil?"
He shrugged in response. Jack had always said any time he thought there was a meaning or purpose to things, he was proven wrong. "Because Cardiff is like this sometimes."
"We weren't in Cardiff."
"Perhaps we needed to be." He sat down with his coffee and an apple, and had just taken a bite when the front door opened.
Lawrence and Stibbs were on their way down the stairs, so they saw Jack first. "Good morning, boys!" he said cheerfully. Behind him, Ianto waited on the doorstep until Jack pulled him inside. Phil allowed himself a small sigh; his father really did hoard the best-looking ones for himself. Then he joined them in the foyer.
"Phil, I was wondering if you'd like to come with us for a bit, see the old stomping grounds."
"Can we come, too?" asked Stibbs quickly. He'd always had a big crush on Jack, which hadn't abated at all when Jack had gladly slept with him.
"Afraid not. There are some timeline issues we need to worry about. I'm going to have to ask you three to stay here." Stibb's face fell, and beside him, Phil saw the slump of Fletcher's shoulders. They all wanted to get out for a while and see this new world.
Lawrence said, "But Phil can see it?"
"I know a little more about the future than you fellows do," Phil said. "Part of His Majesty's secret programme. Sorry," he added when he saw the hurt looks from his chums. If they knew even half of what he'd never told them, well, it wouldn't be pretty, and he was certain that his father knew a hell of a lot more.
Ianto said, "We do want your stay here to be comfortable. If you've come up with anything else you'd like, food, entertainment," he glared at Jack, "within reason, I can fetch it from the shops today."
When he'd come to see them, before they'd moved the lorry and then gone out, he'd brought large paper bags full of meat and fresh vegetables like Phil hadn't seen in years, and had explained anyone could go to the shop and buy this sort of thing. Not them, of course. They had to stay put.
"I'll get my coat," Phil said, and went back up the stairs as the others crowded 'round, asking about what was "reasonable" entertainment.
***
Martha finished entering the last of her notes on the Rift refugees into the computer. If Jack wanted her to, she could perform a proper workup, but all four appeared to be in good health, and the handy scanner she'd run over them showed nothing unusual, pathogen-wise. If she wanted, she had Owen's notes on how to do a complete physical examination with the device, but she liked doing some things the old-fashioned way.
And speaking of …
The cog door opened and Gwen came in, for once beating both Johnson and Lois. The boys had called in to say they were detouring for a Weevil sighting that had come in over the early morning channels, and would be in later, and Martha was to let only Lois touch the coffeemaker.
This place was mad sometimes.
"Good morning," Martha said, as Gwen came over to her station. "How are you feeling?"
Gwen looked around, saw the otherwise empty Hub, and shrugged. "Tired." She dropped her gaze to her own shirt and rubbed momentarily. "The girls are sore."
Martha held her laugh. Gwen was lucky Jack wasn't in, because there was no way he'd have let that slide without comment. Didn't they have CCTV everywhere around here, too? "My slate is clear for the morning. Are you ready?"
"No. But let's do this anyway."
There was a small, private room off the main medical area, and it was in here that Gwen took off her clothes and put on the hospital gown. Martha did the blood draw first, and then spent her time checking Gwen's vitals, asking her about her diet when she wasn't at work, how much sleep she got and how good it was when she did. She did a quick pelvic exam, which Gwen seemed to find unnerving, but since Martha half-expected Jack to bound in midway through, she couldn't really blame her. No visitors came, though, and Gwen dressed as Martha took the samples she'd collected out to the lab area.
Gwen played with her lower lip with her teeth. "It'll look suspicious if you only do my physical."
"I have a list. I'll get everyone today if there's time." She understood the privacy concerns, and anyway, they were all past due for a checkup. Martha only drew the line at the pterosaur. She wasn't a damned vet, thank you.
As they went out, Lois had already started the coffee, and Johnson was looking over the overnights. Martha rapidly assessed which job was more important. "Johnson, I need you in here for a physical."
Johnson sighed, and shoved way from her station. "If this is Jack's way of getting everyone naked today … "
Martha laughed. Over the speaker came Jack's voice: "Who wants to help us unload some Weevils?"
Johnson turned on her heel and headed for the underground carpark, Gwen right after her. Lois appeared at the top of the stairs outside the butler's pantry, the coffeepot in her hand. "What's going on?"
"Get down here," Martha said amiably. "And take off your clothes."
***
Johnson arrived at the carpark in time to watch Jones manhandle the first Weevil out of the SUV and into the waiting arms of Captain Harkness and another man she didn't know. She stopped, confusion warring with her impulses to pull out her sidearm, or fall back to a safer position. Cooper arrived right behind her, and then running wasn't an option.
Harkness noticed her first. "Johnson, just in time. Can you help Phil get this one down to the cells? We've got two more coming."
The Weevil struggled and Jones pulled out his can of spray, subduing it again, while he worked on getting a second free of its confinement. Johnson stepped forward, and took hold of the first Weevil from Harkness. Behind her, Cooper cleared her throat. "Jack?"
"Hey, Gwen. I'll get this one if you'll help Ianto with number three."
"I don't need help."
Harkness ignored him. "He got the wind knocked out of him when we were taking down these guys. Remind me to ask Martha to take a look at his ribs."
"Martha's doing everyone's physicals today anyway," Cooper replied, stepping over to help Jones, even as her eyes stayed on the newcomer. "And who's this?"
"Oh. Right. Phil, everybody. Everybody, Phil. Don't wave. Weevils are nasty when they get loose. All right, kids, down to the cells."
They dragged the prisoners down to the containment cells where Jones would process them later, feeding them the special mash Dr. Harper had developed that was part sedative, part contraceptive. After it took hold, they could be fitted with trackers and released back into the sewers. Johnson would rather just shoot them, but Cooper thought this was the more humane option, and since she appeared to replace the function of whatever conscience Harkness lacked, hers was the deciding vote on the matter.
Johnson kept her mouth shut, and helped the stranger go through the back corridors of the secret base. Harkness had never been strong on following procedure or maintaining secrecy, although she had to admit, his tendency to overplay his role and make Torchwood a well-known thorn in Cardiff's side actually did serve to hide its true purpose. She'd been sent to spy on them, and sometimes she still wrote out her observations on the problems she found. Part of her was beginning to see the file as a working list of things to fix if she chose to stay.
Absolutely none of this had anything to do with Alice Carter. Not at all. Alice couldn't stand Harkness either most of the time, and she'd turned out to be a very good venting post. They met for drinks every week or so, and they complained about Alice's father, and that was it. Well, dinner twice. And Alice had wanted to see the same film at the cinema and it had only made sense to go together.
The stranger helped her get the Weevil into the cell, and they kept it at bay while its friends were shoved inside with it. From beside them, the Weevil Harkness called Janet moaned in a low voice, and Johnson shivered. That thing gave her the creeps.
As soon as it was inside, the stranger turned to Cooper with a wide smile. "Phillip Harrison, and you are?" He took her hand, ostensibly to shake it.
Cooper flushed. "Gwen Cooper. Williams. Cooper-Williams. Hi."
Harkness cleared his throat. "Don't hit on that one, either."
"No hoarding."
"She's married."
Harrison glanced down at Cooper's hand to see the wedding ring. "Oh, like that's ever stopped you," he said to Harkness.
"Hey, I've matured!"
"Good lord, the world really is coming to an end." To Cooper, he said, "Charmed to meet you."
Harrison turned to Johnson, and she took a step back defensively, even as Jones said, "I wouldn't, if I were you."
"Why not?"
Jones, already mostly out the door, said, "She's dating your sister."
***
After Lawrence and Stibbs finished their coffee and the breakfast they'd managed to make amongst the three of them, they poked more around the little house. Perry got the television -- remarkable thing -- to show pictures and music, but without context, none of it made much sense. Perry had a feeling that he ought not look too closely at this futuristic stuff anyway, if Harrison was to be believed. Last night hadn't been a problem. A pub was a pub, and if all he knew about the future was that the other patrons wouldn't blink at Perry or those two blokes holding hands (or, God help them all, Jack) then he thought the next sixty some years would be all right.
Lawrence said, "We should go take a look around."
"Around where?" asked Stibbs, staring confusedly at a loud woman on the screen.
"Outside. How often are we going to get this chance, eh?"
Perry said, "Jack told us to stay here." But even as he said it, warm excitement bubbled inside of him. So much to see, so much to do. This new world was amazing, he just knew it.
"Jack's a bastard. Probably wants all the good bits for himself." That sounded perfectly reasonable. Harrison's cousin brought the party with him, but he wasn't always careful about what was left behind when he'd taken the parts he wanted.
Outside, there was a privacy hedge, but Perry saw the twinkle of automobiles and lorries racing by beyond it. A quick peek wouldn't do any harm.
***
Once Harrison was introduced around the conference table, and informed that he wasn't allowed to hit on any of the rest of the staff, either, Jack clapped his hands together the way he did when he wanted to jolly them into something unfortunate. "Martha says we're all past due for our physicals. I want everyone to get a place in line and remember, cough over your left shoulder."
Ianto considered pointing out that advice only applied to the two of them, but kept his mouth shut. Martha had already informed him his own slot was right after she was finished with Johnson, and he wasn't looking forward to any of it. He doubted he could beg off and go see his own GP instead. Martha would take offence, and Jack would order him to see her anyway, and that just wouldn't end well.
Lois raised her hand tentatively. A moment of fear washed through him: she'd already had her turn, and part of a regular physical was asking about recent sexual activity. Had she mentioned their encounter? Should he? They'd all been reasonably careful, and Jack was immune to most disease, but Ianto or Lois could have transmitted something and not known about it, and if the two of them suddenly came down with the same STI, that'd all be out fast. Nerves ate at him again.
"Sir," said Lois. "Respectfully, why is the Lance-Sergeant here? Isn't this a violation of security protocols?"
Jack gave her an indulgent smile. "Yes and no. Rift refugees are allowed access to the Hub sometimes."
"Yes, sir. When there's a reason to suspect it's of vital importance to their being in this time period." Or, Ianto recalled, when Jack felt like it.
Harrison said, "I signed confidentiality waivers in regards to Torchwood years ago. My brother and I used to play here when we were boys."
Gwen turned to Jack. "They did what?"
He waved his hand. "It was a visitation arrangement thing. And it only happened twice."
"You didn't have a dinosaur then. Or the fountain."
"No, those are new."
"Are the underground docks still there?"
"Yes, and you weren't supposed to go there before, either."
Harrison grinned, and Ianto knew that smile from a thousand miles away. For one thing, the man had smiled it right before he'd punched the Weevil this morning. Actually punched it. The other two had been corralled, but the third had run away from the spray, ducking down an alley. Harrison had been at the other end with Jack's damnable grin on his face and the Weevil had met his fist, and that had been that.
Ianto had been impressed, and then turned on, and then upset at being turned on, and then Jack had needed a hand loading the Weevil in with its friends.
"Anyway," Jack said. "We need to work on the Rift predictor, see what it's planning on throwing at us over the next week or so. We know our guests," he tipped his head at Harrison, "will be going back home soon, and I'd like to know when so we can have them safely in position."
He didn't say, "We need a new tech," but Ianto heard the words regardless. Tosh's absence still ached, and her replacement had lasted less than a day. They'd never find someone as brilliant as she'd been, but they needed a warm body with a brain and a better grasp of the technology than Ianto had been able to pick up. And if the tech happened to be a bloke, well, Ianto liked his female colleagues plenty, but after last night, he found that he longed for a male friend who wasn't also his boyfriend.
The meeting broke up soon after. Johnson stayed, with her "I strongly disagree with this lack of protocol" face firmly attached. Lois helped him clear the cups and plates and get the hell out of there before Johnson started yelling. Harrison had already gone out with Gwen and Martha, attempting to charm them both despite his father's warning.
Lois and Ianto shared a look, which turned into laughter as they left the conference room behind. Ianto said, "I honestly miss the days when it was Gwen taking Jack to task after every meeting."
"When did she stop?"
"When we stopped having meetings." Which was right after they'd lost Tosh and Owen, and there went his happy feeling. He sighed, and then took the cups from her hands. "I'll get these. Thanks, Lisa."
She stood there a moment. "Ianto?"
"Hm?"
Lois opened her mouth and then closed it again. "Nothing. Sorry. I'll get working on the Rift predictor, shall I?"
"Good idea. Best do it from the Tourist Centre, since we were closed yesterday."
She nodded, and left him with the washing up.
***
Jack was taking a few minutes in his office to deal with today's urgent pile. Out his window, he could see Phil straddling a chair while Gwen worked. Johnson had already gone off with bad grace to go see Martha. Jack smiled.
He had memos from Whitehall, next year's budget to look over before Ianto came after him with something sharp, and a stack of reports to finish on their activities over the last week. He ignored all this in favour of a quick email from Mickey. He had a lead in his second project, nothing solid, but he was going to do some legwork to check out the facility in question. Jack typed back: "Good luck, let me know. - CJH"
There was a small tap on his door. He closed the email window. "Come in, Lois." She peeked inside, and then shut the door behind her. Lois was the only one who knocked as if she were afraid of being heard. He couldn't decide if it was sweet or annoying. "Need something?"
"Do you have a moment, sir?"
"Sure. What's on your mind?" She'd closed the door, so probably something private, and he was going to guess it had to do with two days ago. "By the way, you really can call me 'Jack.' Everyone else does."
"I know. I forget sometimes. I need to ask you something about Ianto."
"Shouldn't you ask him?"
"Probably. I'm not sure if this is a personnel issue, or something else." Her eyes flickered away, then met his. "He and I talked. About what happened."
"Yeah. You and I probably should talk, too. Yesterday got away from me. Are you okay?"
"Fine. Perfectly fine." If Lois was using "fine" to mean "completely not fine at all" the way Ianto did, she hid it a lot better.
"You can tell me if you're upset. You know it had nothing to do with the job, right?"
"I know. Just a bit of fun." A little smile played on her lips, and Jack specifically did not remember the feel of those lips wrapped around … He shook himself.
"Exactly."
"It's just … Well, we talked, and we agreed that it was fun, and that for now, we ought to stay friends. I don't want to make things complicated here."
"I can handle complications, but that's your decision, and if you ever change your mind, just let us know." This was really going better than he'd feared after Ianto's meltdown yesterday morning.
"Thanks. But … " She took a breath. "It's such a silly thing, and I wouldn't have mentioned anything, but it's happened twice now. He keeps saying my name wrong."
Jack raised his eyebrow. Ianto was sensitive about people mispronouncing his name, and he usually made an effort to get the pronunciations right for others. "How?"
"He called me 'Lisa.'"
Ah damn. "That went from zero to unhealthy a lot faster than I was expecting."
"Sorry?"
"Nothing. I'll talk to him. Don't worry, I can guarantee it won't happen again."
"I don't want to get him into trouble or anything. I just thought it was strange."
"Well, our Ianto's a strange man sometimes. Let me handle it. And Lois?" He said her name very deliberately. "I like the idea of being friends, too."
She gave him another smile. "Okay. Thanks. Friends it is. Thank you," she said again, nervously, standing up. "If you don't mind, I'll go by the safe house to check on our other visitors."
"Good plan. Tell them Phil and I will be by later." He watched her walk out, enjoying the view.
When he turned back to the paperwork, his mind couldn't make sense of the words at all, and after a few moments, he gave up. Tomorrow's urgent pile would just have to be bigger.
***
Dressed in these modern clothes, Perry felt less exposed than he might, but this place was so loud, and so dense. Music he didn't recognise blared from automobiles on the streets, screens like their television showed up everywhere in windows and in the shops they wandered in and out of.
"We don't have any money," Perry reminded them. "So don't touch anything." He'd broken that rule ten minutes later at a shop that carried shiny, slim boxes no bigger than his hand that the shopgirl said were telephones and computers. She'd pressed one into his palm, and he'd lost his breath, looking at the tiny screen, filled with information he didn't quite grasp. He wasn't a codebreaker, but he'd always had the impulse, and this device was a code he hadn't yet unscrambled.
"Best put it back, mate," Lawrence had said, coming up behind him.
"Right." Perry handed the thing to the shopgirl. "Time to go."
Stibbs's eyes were huge, watching everything around them, and he finally stood stock still in front of a restaurant. Delicious smells assaulted them, making Perry almost drool.
"We should get back to the house," he said. "We've food there."
Lawrence looked around. "Which way's that, then?"
***
One of the problems with growing up with "Secret Alien-Fighting Team" on his parents' resumes was that instead of being overcome with mystery and awe, Phil rather thought of Torchwood as a bit shabby and useless. Mum sat all day listening to recordings of blips and bloops, scratching out with a pencil what she thought they meant. Dad was full of bluster and bravado, but half the aliens he caught turned out to be scavengers and drunkards, stuck on a backwards planet and too stupid to do anything about it. (Mum said this same thing about Dad sometimes.)
Around him, he saw the familiar buzz of hurried activity, and although the systems had updated, he still recognised "busy for the sake of looking busy" when he saw it. Shame, really.
Interesting fact about the future: people were still people, and Torchwood people were still Torchwood.
He wandered over, hands in pockets, to where Johnson was examining an object she apparently didn't recognise any more than he did. She had a severe kind of beauty, like a school mistress, or one of the women in that exclusive club he'd visited with his father during leave once. "What's my sister like?"
She turned, the scowl only increasing her allure. "Ask Jack."
"Everyone says to ask you." A lie, but an effective one.
"We are not dating. We simply enjoy spending time together commiserating over the fact that neither of us can stand your father."
Phil laughed. "Oh, you ought to invite my brother over. I swear he hasn't said a good word about Jack since we were ten years old."
Her eyes narrowed. "You two seem to get on well."
He shrugged. Dad had tried, not hard, but he'd tried. He'd spent time with them when Mum had lived in Cardiff, and he'd spent odd weekends visiting after. When he could, he tucked them in at night with impossible tales that Phil never tired of, stories of stars and monsters and a magical wizard and a beautiful princess in a blue castle far away. Frank lost interest early, preferring the solid world around him, the proper path, normal people living normal lives. He'd signed up for the RAF because it was the right thing to do. Phil drank down every adventure Jack spun and wanted more, and enlisted in the Army because he saw himself as finally getting the chance to be a hero on his own.
"We understand each other."
"Phil?" That was Jack, poking his head out of his office. "Got a minute?"
"Sure." He nodded politely at Johnson and then ran up the stairs. "Something on your mind?"
"I thought we might give Frank a call."
Phil sat down. "You said the shock would kill him."
"Only if he knows you're there. I could call him, let you listen in." It wasn't much, and they both knew it.
Phil picked up the proffered handset and listened as Jack dialled. Torchwood had been early adopters of the telephone system, so he'd known about the devices far earlier than most people. Amazing thing, pick it up, and in a few short minutes, you could hear a voice from hundreds of miles away. Phil listened as Jack flirted his way past the operator at the care home, and was connected.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end was old, full of crackle and dust. Phil's heart stopped. Jack looked up at him, worried, but it was only Phil's world ending, and he waved the concern away.
"Hey, old man," Jack said. "Just saying hello."
"You never just say hello." Phil heard warmth past the words. "How's everything been with you?"
"Good, good. Saving the world, causing trouble. How are your knees?"
"Wretched. Thanks for asking."
Jack and Frank chatted, and Phil stopped himself from saying anything, though it hurt. Frank had grown old. How was that possible? Frank asked after Alice, and he fussed at Jack for "not seeing to the damn Daleks faster," and his kids were well, and the future was a strange place.
Jack looked over at Phil, then said, "I'm going to have to get going, I'm afraid. Things to see, people to do."
Frank coughed, and Phil squeezed the telephone, but the cough faded. "All right. Take care of yourself."
"Same. I'll come by to visit soon."
"Liar."
Phil set the phone back into its cradle. "Thank you," he managed around the lump in his throat.
"Hey," Jack said, and he came over. Phil took the hug for what it was. His father really didn't know much about comfort, but he tried. He did.
***
Inside Mark's head, everything glowed. This world, this strange new planet everyone insisted was Earth but couldn't possibly be, sparkled around him, and he couldn't keep his eyes open wide enough to take it all in.
This was Jack's new world, wonderful happy Jack, with his easy laugh and big smile, and his possessive hand never far from his latest conquest. Mark didn't have room in his heart to be jealous of Jack's new lover. Jack left everyone eventually. Harrison had told Mark so over cheap whisky after Jack had been transferred suddenly. "He likes people, but he never considers them, not really. He doesn't think to say goodbye. Take my advice, don't get attached," Harrison had said, knocking back the tin cup and Mark had nodded, wondering when he'd see Jack again.
And now Jack was here, and this strange world was here, and nothing made any sense except doing whatever Lawrence and Harrison told him to do.
He blinked. So loud.
"Stop!"
Arms were on his from both sides, tugging on him, and he heard the blaring of the car's horn.
"What the hell do you think you were doing?" Lawrence demanded. "Trying to get yourself killed?"
No. He hadn't. He was just so confused. "I thought … "
"I doubt that," Lawrence said, patting him down for injuries. The automobile screeched off again.
"Are you all right?" Fletcher asked.
"Yeah."
"I think it was this way," Lawrence said. "Let's get him home before he hurts himself."
They found the little house soon after, and the other two bundled him inside. They had no sooner got their coats off than there was a knock on the front door.
"Hello," said the woman. Lois. Her name was Lois. Pretty black lady who helped them when they arrived. "I came to check on you."
"We're fine," Lawrence said too quickly.
Fletcher said, "Stibbs might need to see your doctor again."
Lois made a sympathetic face. "Not feeling well?"
Mark blinked at her.
"He's just not quite himself."
"It's a bit of a shock, I'm sure," she said. "Dr. Jones said he shouldn't be exposed to too much stimulation." She looked at Fletcher. "He's been sitting quietly here, yes?"
Mark said, "We had a lovely walk, miss."
Lawrence groaned. Fletcher covered his face. Lois said, "Did you? Did Captain Harkness suggest that?"
"No, miss. Lawrence did."
"All right," she said, giving the other two a stern look. "Let's sit down with a nice cuppa, and calm down, and see if that helps. And if it does, I won't have to tell Jack you've been out against his orders."
"Thank you, miss." He beamed at her and her promise of tea.
***
The call came in over the police frequencies: could be a Weevil attack in-progress, could be something more. Jack shouted down to the Hub: "Load up. Bring the guns."
Gwen closed the file she was working on and got her jacket. Phil (he was very easy to think of as "Phil") was right behind her. Jack stopped him. "Not you. You can stay here."
Gwen didn't miss Ianto's look as he passed by, gear bags over each shoulder. Jack wasn't objecting to letting him out into the field properly for once.
"Oh, come on, then," Phil said. "I can use a gun, and it's not like I didn't grow up knowing about aliens and what not."
"You don't have the training, and I'm not babysitting you when my people are in danger."
Phil glanced over to where Johnson had her gear ready to go. Gwen glanced down at her own weaponry and equipment, and almost laughed. Jack's people weren't in danger, they brought danger with them.
"Actually," Martha said, "unless you think you'll need me, I'd like to stay behind and process some of this." She didn't look at Gwen, which was just as well because Gwen suddenly felt her stomach twist again.
"Are we going?" asked Johnson.
Jack gave an annoyed sound, then grabbed Phil's wrist. "You will stay in the car, do you understand?"
"Yes, Dad."
***
Jones brought lunch down to the med bay, where everyone was pretending not to gather to watch Dr. Jones put a plaster on Harrison's shoulder. Johnson took her own sandwich from the tray.
Harkness said, "Do you really not understand the words 'Stay in the car?' Because I could have sworn I said them at least three times."
"Five," said Johnson. She looked around, realised no-one had asked, and went back to pretending to work.
"I'm the one who's injured and I am not going to apologise. It would have killed you."
Harkness shouted, "It's okay if it kills me! I'm the one who comes back! Next time, let me take the hit."
Harrison made a face as Dr. Jones applied some ointment to the second, smaller wound on his neck. Changing the subject, he said, "What was that thing, anyway?"
Harkness said, "Ianto?"
Jones sighed. "An invisible face-eating alien of unknown origin. Deceased."
The large black body bag showed a large bulk that none of them had seen properly. Dr. Jones would autopsy it to try and figure out what it had been. Johnson had stopped it, with an assist from Cooper. Not that anyone had said thank you.
"You need to stay out of trouble," Harkness said, pointing his finger at Harrison. Harrison stared at the finger, and then chuckled. "Something funny?"
"Only if you know where that finger's been."
Johnson stopped listening.
***
Jack let Martha shoo him out of the med bay so her patient could get some rest while the special goo (Owen's notes were descriptive, but lacked imagination in certain areas) did its job. He ought to talk to Ianto, but he pushed that to the side for now. Ianto would take the news much better over dinner, or entwined with him on the sofa, and Jack could pretend he wasn't having the conversation as Ianto's boss. Or, not over dinner. He was going to call Alice to see if she was all right with meeting her brother, and they could have dinner with her and Steven. Ianto had already warned him to tell Phil and Alice both exactly who they were, so they didn't end up in the middle of a Greek tragedy before the pudding.
"Sir," said Johnson from her station, and Jack held his shudder. He really had to stop her using that, because he'd long since got used to a more inappropriate connotation.
He sauntered over to her and rested an arm on her chair. "What's up?"
"I think we've got a Rift spike coming up." The predictor program hummed to itself as Johnson showed him the variables. Mainframe didn't seem to like Johnson much, and stuttered oddly from time to time, but now the numbers scrolled across her screen.
Tonight. Seven o'clock. The same place they'd come through.
"Already?"
He said it to himself, but saw Johnson frown at him. "It makes sense. If the ends ripple again, they're unlikely to hit the same place in space-time." Which was entirely not how it happened, but he wasn't explaining now.
"Yeah. All right. Let me … I'll tell him. Them." None of the men had accomplished or changed anything here. Jack hated when he let himself think there was a purpose to these things. He was always wrong.
He left Johnson, but couldn't make himself go tell Phil, not yet. He strode purposefully up to the greenhouse, where he could be alone for a few minutes to think, and also have a decent view of the rest.
Gwen was already in there.
"Hey," he said, when he noticed her bent over one of the pots. Gwen had taken over the care of the plants after Owen's second death. Jack had figured it was her own private therapy and left her to the task. She tried following the random notes he'd made, but Owen hadn't even been sure of what half of the alien flora samples had been, and his notes had been for himself. Without the exact right care, a few of the plants had withered, and Jack was pretty sure Gwen cried each time, mourning all over again.
Sure enough, her eyes were red when she turned to see him. "Oh. Sorry. I was just … "
She let out a heavy breath, and Jack pulled her into a hug, let her tremble against him for a moment until she caught her bearings again. "You gonna be okay?"
She leaned back so she could look at him. "I'm fine. Just had a moment there."
"It can be our secret."
The hug was getting to that awkward stage they sometimes did, and Jack stepped back with as much grace as he could. Through the window, he saw Phil shrugging on one of Jack's shirts to replace the one shredded by the invisible face-eating alien. Ianto said something, no idea what, but Phil laughed as Ianto carried off the ruined shirt.
Jack should be down there, should be spending every last second with Phil. They only had a few hours left. The grief hit him so hard he couldn't breathe.
"Jack?"
He'd forgotten Gwen, felt her gentle hand on his arm. He rested his hand atop hers. "Just catching my breath. Been a busy couple of days."
"Oh yes," she said, with an odd hiccupping giggle.
"He has to go home tonight. The Rift is going to open up. I didn't think … I thought, since he was here, I'd get to keep him longer."
"You really love him, don't you?"
"Of course I do." Jack didn't play favourites, couldn't have favourites. No-one could have a favourite child. It would be unfair to the others, and with Jack's life ahead, there would be many others, by accident or otherwise. So all he would say was that it had been wonderful, for just a while, to have one child who didn't despise him, or fight with him, and who just loved Jack for who he was, too. "You'll see one of these days. When it's your kid, you'll do anything for him. Or her." Jack smiled. "I can see you with a little girl." She'd be cute as a button, like a little version of Gwen, and she'd be the apple of Rhys's eye, and Jack would be able to say that all the rules he'd bent to keep Gwen's life intact had been worth it.
"Do you think?" Gwen still sounded sad. She must be missing Owen something fierce today. Jack wrapped his arm around her.
"Oh yeah. Of course you're going to have to explain to Rhys why she looks like me."
Gwen let out a groan, ducked from his hold and punched him lightly on his bicep. "Don't you even start with me today, Harkness." Her tone was fierce but she was trying not to chuckle, and he was glad that he could make her laugh.
"I'm going to find better company," she said, and the smile was finally back on her face. He watched her go, then turned back to the window. Phil was right there, walking through the Hub, and Jack wanted to remember this forever, wanted to turn back the clock and keep Phil here in this place with him for as long as he could. But the clock insisted Phil had to go back, and there was no way to turn back the time.
A thought bloomed in Jack's mind, like an alien flower alive in sudden moonlight. Phil had to go back, but he didn't have to go back alone.
***
Chapter Four
Author: nancybrown
Artist: rexluscus
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Rhys, Martha, Lois, Johnson, Mickey, OCs
Warnings: poor understanding of time travel, even poorer understanding of 40s era British military systems, angst, character death
Rating: R
Word Count: 27,500 (7500 this part)
Beta(s): queenfanfiction audienced this, while wynkat1313 and fide_et_spe both kicked it into shape, and you have them to thank if it makes any kind of coherent sense
Spoilers: up through CoE (characters only)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Art by rexluscus
***
Chapter Three
***
Morning came too soon, and Gwen dragged herself from bed and went to the loo. The test she'd picked up said to use it with the first wee of the day. Three minutes later, she had a wet stick and something that could have been a plus and could have been a defect in the background image.
She sighed. Her mate Candace back in uni had taken three tests like this, come up negative all three times, and delivered a boy eight months later.
Gwen squinted at the results window again. She could take it with her and ask Martha to read it, but if she left it too long, didn't the results change? She could take the other one in the pack with her. But Martha was going to give her a blood test anyway.
Stomach in knots, she buried the used test in the bin under everything else, and hid the second test in the back of the cupboard again. There was always tomorrow morning. Then she slipped back out into her bedroom.
She was exhausted all the time. It would only get worse from here on out. As she dressed quietly, she watched Rhys sleep for the extra half hour he got to lie in after her. The story she knew was that when Torchwood touched you, it changed you forever. The sheer weight of the knowledge of aliens and utter shit that lurked around every corner was enough to drag down the noblest heart in despair, and frankly, Torchwood never went recruiting among the noble-hearted. Jack carried the darkness with him like an extra coat. Ianto admitted it was crushing him to death slowly. Martha could slip away alive because she knew she was leaving eventually, and Johnson had come pre-equipped with personal demons. Lois reminded Gwen so much of her own early, innocent days, making her wonder how long it would be until the younger woman came to work every morning with the same sense of hopelessness Gwen had tried so desperately not to acquire.
But Rhys knew. He'd seen the aliens, and he'd helped fight, and he knew about the evils in the stars and down in the sewers, and still he greeted Gwen every evening with a smile and a kiss. He shrugged off the darkness and ignored it, taking on all the world's troubles without (much of) a complaint, nor with broody silences. He was the rock on which she'd built the last of her faith in the world. She loved him so much.
He cracked an eye open. "Aren't you going to be late?" His face was half-buried in his pillow, and it came out as a mumble, and she loved him even more.
"I'm going."
Gwen placed a hand over her stomach. So far, no nausea today. If she pressed, she could feel her own heart beating against her palm.
"I love you," she said, and bent over and gave him a kiss. He mumbled again and was quiet.
***
He half-listened to another serenade from Jack along with the morning radio programme. Ianto nodded sleepily, still tired, always tired. Only when Jack made a different turn than usual did Ianto wake up enough to notice the change. "Taking the scenic route?"
"I've decided we're going to participate in 'Take Your Child to Work Day.'"
Ianto thought this had "terrible idea" written all over it, but he was long accustomed to Jack's expression when he was set on something and merely said, "Playing catch-up?"
"As much as I can. Spend some time with him, show him around. I was never good at the dad stuff. This could be fun." He hummed along with the radio. "You'd make a good dad."
"I wouldn't. I don't even like children." Ianto pulled a face. "I pay my niece and nephew to not bother me when I'm at my sister's."
"I thought that's what you were doing. You should try playing with them. They love that."
They did. Jack had easily won over David and Mica's approval by the simple expedient of acting like a big kid whenever he was in the room with them. Rhiannon adored Jack (after Ianto had assured her Jack had nothing to do with his broken arm) and Johnny treated him like one of the lads. Johnny hadn't treated Ianto like one of the lads even when they'd been in school. Ianto's family liked Jack.
"You get along fine with Steven."
"I run out of conversational topics right after we've exhausted 'So, I see you're a child, then.'"
Jack laughed. "And Alice likes you better than she likes me."
"First, while you insist on treating her like she's sixteen, Alice is in no way a child, and second, she also likes Johnson more than she likes you." That hit, and Jack frowned. Ianto regretted it instantly, but truth tended to be painful. "Sorry."
Jack brushed it off. "Anyway, when it's your own kid, it's a whole different world. The things that annoy you about other kids are cute when it's yours."
"I'm sure."
"You'll see."
The base emotion growing in his stomach since Jack's first off-hand remark finally boiled to the surface. "We need to stop this conversation."
They pulled to a stop at a light. "Why?"
"Because I'm not having children, and I don't see the point in pretending otherwise. Unless," he amended, "this is your ham-fisted attempt to tell me you're pregnant, in which case I need to go get very drunk now."
"Nah, the technology for that won't be widespread until the thirty-third century." The light changed.
Ianto sighed. Jack was missing the point, intentionally or not. "You're not pregnant, then. Good." He turned up the radio.
Jack turned it down again. "What's eating you?"
"Nothing."
"No, not nothing. I'm used to you being pissed off at me, but I usually already know why."
He closed his eyes. "Jack, how long do you think I'm going to live?"
Jack opened his mouth, a quick answer always at the ready. Then he shut it again. He changed his posture, driving with one knee and placing a soft hand on Ianto's arm, which Ianto shrugged away.
"You're not going to die." Funny. He couldn't even say it like he was making himself believe the words.
"Can we please stop discussing this?"
"All right." His voice was chastened, quiet, and the upset feeling grew again. Not only was Ianto depressed and moody, he was dragging Jack into it, and Jack was the one who usually pulled him out. Bad situation before his first coffee of the day.
In a lighter tone, he said, "What are you going to show him in the Hub?"
Jack appeared grateful for the distraction, but then, he usually was. "I'll start with the pterodactyl. Kids like dinosaurs."
Harrison wasn't a "kid" by any definition, but Ianto didn't correct him, instead settled back into his seat as Jack started singing again.
***
Phil woke with the sounds of traffic outside his window. The bed wasn't much, but it was nicer than the bedroll he was used to these past several weeks, and he spent a few minutes just enjoying the feel of the sheets. He had simple, clean pyjamas, and two fresh changes of clothes that would fit, and down the hallway, a shower with hot water that never ran out. He took his time with each, and went down the narrow stairs to find Fletcher already in the kitchen, drinking coffee and staring outside into the slanted morning light.
"That smells good," Phil said in way of greeting.
"Better than boiled in an old boot," Fletcher replied. Phil poured a generous measure from the percolator and then scrounged for food in the boxy refrigerator.
"How are you holding up?"
"This is all a very strange dream. I'll wake up shortly and tell you I thought we went into the future and saw your cousin there. You'll mock me for dreaming about Jack, and I'll forget by dinner."
Phil smiled. "Good enough."
"Why are we here, Phil?"
He shrugged in response. Jack had always said any time he thought there was a meaning or purpose to things, he was proven wrong. "Because Cardiff is like this sometimes."
"We weren't in Cardiff."
"Perhaps we needed to be." He sat down with his coffee and an apple, and had just taken a bite when the front door opened.
Lawrence and Stibbs were on their way down the stairs, so they saw Jack first. "Good morning, boys!" he said cheerfully. Behind him, Ianto waited on the doorstep until Jack pulled him inside. Phil allowed himself a small sigh; his father really did hoard the best-looking ones for himself. Then he joined them in the foyer.
"Phil, I was wondering if you'd like to come with us for a bit, see the old stomping grounds."
"Can we come, too?" asked Stibbs quickly. He'd always had a big crush on Jack, which hadn't abated at all when Jack had gladly slept with him.
"Afraid not. There are some timeline issues we need to worry about. I'm going to have to ask you three to stay here." Stibb's face fell, and beside him, Phil saw the slump of Fletcher's shoulders. They all wanted to get out for a while and see this new world.
Lawrence said, "But Phil can see it?"
"I know a little more about the future than you fellows do," Phil said. "Part of His Majesty's secret programme. Sorry," he added when he saw the hurt looks from his chums. If they knew even half of what he'd never told them, well, it wouldn't be pretty, and he was certain that his father knew a hell of a lot more.
Ianto said, "We do want your stay here to be comfortable. If you've come up with anything else you'd like, food, entertainment," he glared at Jack, "within reason, I can fetch it from the shops today."
When he'd come to see them, before they'd moved the lorry and then gone out, he'd brought large paper bags full of meat and fresh vegetables like Phil hadn't seen in years, and had explained anyone could go to the shop and buy this sort of thing. Not them, of course. They had to stay put.
"I'll get my coat," Phil said, and went back up the stairs as the others crowded 'round, asking about what was "reasonable" entertainment.
***
Martha finished entering the last of her notes on the Rift refugees into the computer. If Jack wanted her to, she could perform a proper workup, but all four appeared to be in good health, and the handy scanner she'd run over them showed nothing unusual, pathogen-wise. If she wanted, she had Owen's notes on how to do a complete physical examination with the device, but she liked doing some things the old-fashioned way.
And speaking of …
The cog door opened and Gwen came in, for once beating both Johnson and Lois. The boys had called in to say they were detouring for a Weevil sighting that had come in over the early morning channels, and would be in later, and Martha was to let only Lois touch the coffeemaker.
This place was mad sometimes.
"Good morning," Martha said, as Gwen came over to her station. "How are you feeling?"
Gwen looked around, saw the otherwise empty Hub, and shrugged. "Tired." She dropped her gaze to her own shirt and rubbed momentarily. "The girls are sore."
Martha held her laugh. Gwen was lucky Jack wasn't in, because there was no way he'd have let that slide without comment. Didn't they have CCTV everywhere around here, too? "My slate is clear for the morning. Are you ready?"
"No. But let's do this anyway."
There was a small, private room off the main medical area, and it was in here that Gwen took off her clothes and put on the hospital gown. Martha did the blood draw first, and then spent her time checking Gwen's vitals, asking her about her diet when she wasn't at work, how much sleep she got and how good it was when she did. She did a quick pelvic exam, which Gwen seemed to find unnerving, but since Martha half-expected Jack to bound in midway through, she couldn't really blame her. No visitors came, though, and Gwen dressed as Martha took the samples she'd collected out to the lab area.
Gwen played with her lower lip with her teeth. "It'll look suspicious if you only do my physical."
"I have a list. I'll get everyone today if there's time." She understood the privacy concerns, and anyway, they were all past due for a checkup. Martha only drew the line at the pterosaur. She wasn't a damned vet, thank you.
As they went out, Lois had already started the coffee, and Johnson was looking over the overnights. Martha rapidly assessed which job was more important. "Johnson, I need you in here for a physical."
Johnson sighed, and shoved way from her station. "If this is Jack's way of getting everyone naked today … "
Martha laughed. Over the speaker came Jack's voice: "Who wants to help us unload some Weevils?"
Johnson turned on her heel and headed for the underground carpark, Gwen right after her. Lois appeared at the top of the stairs outside the butler's pantry, the coffeepot in her hand. "What's going on?"
"Get down here," Martha said amiably. "And take off your clothes."
***
Johnson arrived at the carpark in time to watch Jones manhandle the first Weevil out of the SUV and into the waiting arms of Captain Harkness and another man she didn't know. She stopped, confusion warring with her impulses to pull out her sidearm, or fall back to a safer position. Cooper arrived right behind her, and then running wasn't an option.
Harkness noticed her first. "Johnson, just in time. Can you help Phil get this one down to the cells? We've got two more coming."
The Weevil struggled and Jones pulled out his can of spray, subduing it again, while he worked on getting a second free of its confinement. Johnson stepped forward, and took hold of the first Weevil from Harkness. Behind her, Cooper cleared her throat. "Jack?"
"Hey, Gwen. I'll get this one if you'll help Ianto with number three."
"I don't need help."
Harkness ignored him. "He got the wind knocked out of him when we were taking down these guys. Remind me to ask Martha to take a look at his ribs."
"Martha's doing everyone's physicals today anyway," Cooper replied, stepping over to help Jones, even as her eyes stayed on the newcomer. "And who's this?"
"Oh. Right. Phil, everybody. Everybody, Phil. Don't wave. Weevils are nasty when they get loose. All right, kids, down to the cells."
They dragged the prisoners down to the containment cells where Jones would process them later, feeding them the special mash Dr. Harper had developed that was part sedative, part contraceptive. After it took hold, they could be fitted with trackers and released back into the sewers. Johnson would rather just shoot them, but Cooper thought this was the more humane option, and since she appeared to replace the function of whatever conscience Harkness lacked, hers was the deciding vote on the matter.
Johnson kept her mouth shut, and helped the stranger go through the back corridors of the secret base. Harkness had never been strong on following procedure or maintaining secrecy, although she had to admit, his tendency to overplay his role and make Torchwood a well-known thorn in Cardiff's side actually did serve to hide its true purpose. She'd been sent to spy on them, and sometimes she still wrote out her observations on the problems she found. Part of her was beginning to see the file as a working list of things to fix if she chose to stay.
Absolutely none of this had anything to do with Alice Carter. Not at all. Alice couldn't stand Harkness either most of the time, and she'd turned out to be a very good venting post. They met for drinks every week or so, and they complained about Alice's father, and that was it. Well, dinner twice. And Alice had wanted to see the same film at the cinema and it had only made sense to go together.
The stranger helped her get the Weevil into the cell, and they kept it at bay while its friends were shoved inside with it. From beside them, the Weevil Harkness called Janet moaned in a low voice, and Johnson shivered. That thing gave her the creeps.
As soon as it was inside, the stranger turned to Cooper with a wide smile. "Phillip Harrison, and you are?" He took her hand, ostensibly to shake it.
Cooper flushed. "Gwen Cooper. Williams. Cooper-Williams. Hi."
Harkness cleared his throat. "Don't hit on that one, either."
"No hoarding."
"She's married."
Harrison glanced down at Cooper's hand to see the wedding ring. "Oh, like that's ever stopped you," he said to Harkness.
"Hey, I've matured!"
"Good lord, the world really is coming to an end." To Cooper, he said, "Charmed to meet you."
Harrison turned to Johnson, and she took a step back defensively, even as Jones said, "I wouldn't, if I were you."
"Why not?"
Jones, already mostly out the door, said, "She's dating your sister."
***
After Lawrence and Stibbs finished their coffee and the breakfast they'd managed to make amongst the three of them, they poked more around the little house. Perry got the television -- remarkable thing -- to show pictures and music, but without context, none of it made much sense. Perry had a feeling that he ought not look too closely at this futuristic stuff anyway, if Harrison was to be believed. Last night hadn't been a problem. A pub was a pub, and if all he knew about the future was that the other patrons wouldn't blink at Perry or those two blokes holding hands (or, God help them all, Jack) then he thought the next sixty some years would be all right.
Lawrence said, "We should go take a look around."
"Around where?" asked Stibbs, staring confusedly at a loud woman on the screen.
"Outside. How often are we going to get this chance, eh?"
Perry said, "Jack told us to stay here." But even as he said it, warm excitement bubbled inside of him. So much to see, so much to do. This new world was amazing, he just knew it.
"Jack's a bastard. Probably wants all the good bits for himself." That sounded perfectly reasonable. Harrison's cousin brought the party with him, but he wasn't always careful about what was left behind when he'd taken the parts he wanted.
Outside, there was a privacy hedge, but Perry saw the twinkle of automobiles and lorries racing by beyond it. A quick peek wouldn't do any harm.
***
Once Harrison was introduced around the conference table, and informed that he wasn't allowed to hit on any of the rest of the staff, either, Jack clapped his hands together the way he did when he wanted to jolly them into something unfortunate. "Martha says we're all past due for our physicals. I want everyone to get a place in line and remember, cough over your left shoulder."
Ianto considered pointing out that advice only applied to the two of them, but kept his mouth shut. Martha had already informed him his own slot was right after she was finished with Johnson, and he wasn't looking forward to any of it. He doubted he could beg off and go see his own GP instead. Martha would take offence, and Jack would order him to see her anyway, and that just wouldn't end well.
Lois raised her hand tentatively. A moment of fear washed through him: she'd already had her turn, and part of a regular physical was asking about recent sexual activity. Had she mentioned their encounter? Should he? They'd all been reasonably careful, and Jack was immune to most disease, but Ianto or Lois could have transmitted something and not known about it, and if the two of them suddenly came down with the same STI, that'd all be out fast. Nerves ate at him again.
"Sir," said Lois. "Respectfully, why is the Lance-Sergeant here? Isn't this a violation of security protocols?"
Jack gave her an indulgent smile. "Yes and no. Rift refugees are allowed access to the Hub sometimes."
"Yes, sir. When there's a reason to suspect it's of vital importance to their being in this time period." Or, Ianto recalled, when Jack felt like it.
Harrison said, "I signed confidentiality waivers in regards to Torchwood years ago. My brother and I used to play here when we were boys."
Gwen turned to Jack. "They did what?"
He waved his hand. "It was a visitation arrangement thing. And it only happened twice."
"You didn't have a dinosaur then. Or the fountain."
"No, those are new."
"Are the underground docks still there?"
"Yes, and you weren't supposed to go there before, either."
Harrison grinned, and Ianto knew that smile from a thousand miles away. For one thing, the man had smiled it right before he'd punched the Weevil this morning. Actually punched it. The other two had been corralled, but the third had run away from the spray, ducking down an alley. Harrison had been at the other end with Jack's damnable grin on his face and the Weevil had met his fist, and that had been that.
Ianto had been impressed, and then turned on, and then upset at being turned on, and then Jack had needed a hand loading the Weevil in with its friends.
"Anyway," Jack said. "We need to work on the Rift predictor, see what it's planning on throwing at us over the next week or so. We know our guests," he tipped his head at Harrison, "will be going back home soon, and I'd like to know when so we can have them safely in position."
He didn't say, "We need a new tech," but Ianto heard the words regardless. Tosh's absence still ached, and her replacement had lasted less than a day. They'd never find someone as brilliant as she'd been, but they needed a warm body with a brain and a better grasp of the technology than Ianto had been able to pick up. And if the tech happened to be a bloke, well, Ianto liked his female colleagues plenty, but after last night, he found that he longed for a male friend who wasn't also his boyfriend.
The meeting broke up soon after. Johnson stayed, with her "I strongly disagree with this lack of protocol" face firmly attached. Lois helped him clear the cups and plates and get the hell out of there before Johnson started yelling. Harrison had already gone out with Gwen and Martha, attempting to charm them both despite his father's warning.
Lois and Ianto shared a look, which turned into laughter as they left the conference room behind. Ianto said, "I honestly miss the days when it was Gwen taking Jack to task after every meeting."
"When did she stop?"
"When we stopped having meetings." Which was right after they'd lost Tosh and Owen, and there went his happy feeling. He sighed, and then took the cups from her hands. "I'll get these. Thanks, Lisa."
She stood there a moment. "Ianto?"
"Hm?"
Lois opened her mouth and then closed it again. "Nothing. Sorry. I'll get working on the Rift predictor, shall I?"
"Good idea. Best do it from the Tourist Centre, since we were closed yesterday."
She nodded, and left him with the washing up.
***
Jack was taking a few minutes in his office to deal with today's urgent pile. Out his window, he could see Phil straddling a chair while Gwen worked. Johnson had already gone off with bad grace to go see Martha. Jack smiled.
He had memos from Whitehall, next year's budget to look over before Ianto came after him with something sharp, and a stack of reports to finish on their activities over the last week. He ignored all this in favour of a quick email from Mickey. He had a lead in his second project, nothing solid, but he was going to do some legwork to check out the facility in question. Jack typed back: "Good luck, let me know. - CJH"
There was a small tap on his door. He closed the email window. "Come in, Lois." She peeked inside, and then shut the door behind her. Lois was the only one who knocked as if she were afraid of being heard. He couldn't decide if it was sweet or annoying. "Need something?"
"Do you have a moment, sir?"
"Sure. What's on your mind?" She'd closed the door, so probably something private, and he was going to guess it had to do with two days ago. "By the way, you really can call me 'Jack.' Everyone else does."
"I know. I forget sometimes. I need to ask you something about Ianto."
"Shouldn't you ask him?"
"Probably. I'm not sure if this is a personnel issue, or something else." Her eyes flickered away, then met his. "He and I talked. About what happened."
"Yeah. You and I probably should talk, too. Yesterday got away from me. Are you okay?"
"Fine. Perfectly fine." If Lois was using "fine" to mean "completely not fine at all" the way Ianto did, she hid it a lot better.
"You can tell me if you're upset. You know it had nothing to do with the job, right?"
"I know. Just a bit of fun." A little smile played on her lips, and Jack specifically did not remember the feel of those lips wrapped around … He shook himself.
"Exactly."
"It's just … Well, we talked, and we agreed that it was fun, and that for now, we ought to stay friends. I don't want to make things complicated here."
"I can handle complications, but that's your decision, and if you ever change your mind, just let us know." This was really going better than he'd feared after Ianto's meltdown yesterday morning.
"Thanks. But … " She took a breath. "It's such a silly thing, and I wouldn't have mentioned anything, but it's happened twice now. He keeps saying my name wrong."
Jack raised his eyebrow. Ianto was sensitive about people mispronouncing his name, and he usually made an effort to get the pronunciations right for others. "How?"
"He called me 'Lisa.'"
Ah damn. "That went from zero to unhealthy a lot faster than I was expecting."
"Sorry?"
"Nothing. I'll talk to him. Don't worry, I can guarantee it won't happen again."
"I don't want to get him into trouble or anything. I just thought it was strange."
"Well, our Ianto's a strange man sometimes. Let me handle it. And Lois?" He said her name very deliberately. "I like the idea of being friends, too."
She gave him another smile. "Okay. Thanks. Friends it is. Thank you," she said again, nervously, standing up. "If you don't mind, I'll go by the safe house to check on our other visitors."
"Good plan. Tell them Phil and I will be by later." He watched her walk out, enjoying the view.
When he turned back to the paperwork, his mind couldn't make sense of the words at all, and after a few moments, he gave up. Tomorrow's urgent pile would just have to be bigger.
***
Dressed in these modern clothes, Perry felt less exposed than he might, but this place was so loud, and so dense. Music he didn't recognise blared from automobiles on the streets, screens like their television showed up everywhere in windows and in the shops they wandered in and out of.
"We don't have any money," Perry reminded them. "So don't touch anything." He'd broken that rule ten minutes later at a shop that carried shiny, slim boxes no bigger than his hand that the shopgirl said were telephones and computers. She'd pressed one into his palm, and he'd lost his breath, looking at the tiny screen, filled with information he didn't quite grasp. He wasn't a codebreaker, but he'd always had the impulse, and this device was a code he hadn't yet unscrambled.
"Best put it back, mate," Lawrence had said, coming up behind him.
"Right." Perry handed the thing to the shopgirl. "Time to go."
Stibbs's eyes were huge, watching everything around them, and he finally stood stock still in front of a restaurant. Delicious smells assaulted them, making Perry almost drool.
"We should get back to the house," he said. "We've food there."
Lawrence looked around. "Which way's that, then?"
***
One of the problems with growing up with "Secret Alien-Fighting Team" on his parents' resumes was that instead of being overcome with mystery and awe, Phil rather thought of Torchwood as a bit shabby and useless. Mum sat all day listening to recordings of blips and bloops, scratching out with a pencil what she thought they meant. Dad was full of bluster and bravado, but half the aliens he caught turned out to be scavengers and drunkards, stuck on a backwards planet and too stupid to do anything about it. (Mum said this same thing about Dad sometimes.)
Around him, he saw the familiar buzz of hurried activity, and although the systems had updated, he still recognised "busy for the sake of looking busy" when he saw it. Shame, really.
Interesting fact about the future: people were still people, and Torchwood people were still Torchwood.
He wandered over, hands in pockets, to where Johnson was examining an object she apparently didn't recognise any more than he did. She had a severe kind of beauty, like a school mistress, or one of the women in that exclusive club he'd visited with his father during leave once. "What's my sister like?"
She turned, the scowl only increasing her allure. "Ask Jack."
"Everyone says to ask you." A lie, but an effective one.
"We are not dating. We simply enjoy spending time together commiserating over the fact that neither of us can stand your father."
Phil laughed. "Oh, you ought to invite my brother over. I swear he hasn't said a good word about Jack since we were ten years old."
Her eyes narrowed. "You two seem to get on well."
He shrugged. Dad had tried, not hard, but he'd tried. He'd spent time with them when Mum had lived in Cardiff, and he'd spent odd weekends visiting after. When he could, he tucked them in at night with impossible tales that Phil never tired of, stories of stars and monsters and a magical wizard and a beautiful princess in a blue castle far away. Frank lost interest early, preferring the solid world around him, the proper path, normal people living normal lives. He'd signed up for the RAF because it was the right thing to do. Phil drank down every adventure Jack spun and wanted more, and enlisted in the Army because he saw himself as finally getting the chance to be a hero on his own.
"We understand each other."
"Phil?" That was Jack, poking his head out of his office. "Got a minute?"
"Sure." He nodded politely at Johnson and then ran up the stairs. "Something on your mind?"
"I thought we might give Frank a call."
Phil sat down. "You said the shock would kill him."
"Only if he knows you're there. I could call him, let you listen in." It wasn't much, and they both knew it.
Phil picked up the proffered handset and listened as Jack dialled. Torchwood had been early adopters of the telephone system, so he'd known about the devices far earlier than most people. Amazing thing, pick it up, and in a few short minutes, you could hear a voice from hundreds of miles away. Phil listened as Jack flirted his way past the operator at the care home, and was connected.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end was old, full of crackle and dust. Phil's heart stopped. Jack looked up at him, worried, but it was only Phil's world ending, and he waved the concern away.
"Hey, old man," Jack said. "Just saying hello."
"You never just say hello." Phil heard warmth past the words. "How's everything been with you?"
"Good, good. Saving the world, causing trouble. How are your knees?"
"Wretched. Thanks for asking."
Jack and Frank chatted, and Phil stopped himself from saying anything, though it hurt. Frank had grown old. How was that possible? Frank asked after Alice, and he fussed at Jack for "not seeing to the damn Daleks faster," and his kids were well, and the future was a strange place.
Jack looked over at Phil, then said, "I'm going to have to get going, I'm afraid. Things to see, people to do."
Frank coughed, and Phil squeezed the telephone, but the cough faded. "All right. Take care of yourself."
"Same. I'll come by to visit soon."
"Liar."
Phil set the phone back into its cradle. "Thank you," he managed around the lump in his throat.
"Hey," Jack said, and he came over. Phil took the hug for what it was. His father really didn't know much about comfort, but he tried. He did.
***
Inside Mark's head, everything glowed. This world, this strange new planet everyone insisted was Earth but couldn't possibly be, sparkled around him, and he couldn't keep his eyes open wide enough to take it all in.
This was Jack's new world, wonderful happy Jack, with his easy laugh and big smile, and his possessive hand never far from his latest conquest. Mark didn't have room in his heart to be jealous of Jack's new lover. Jack left everyone eventually. Harrison had told Mark so over cheap whisky after Jack had been transferred suddenly. "He likes people, but he never considers them, not really. He doesn't think to say goodbye. Take my advice, don't get attached," Harrison had said, knocking back the tin cup and Mark had nodded, wondering when he'd see Jack again.
And now Jack was here, and this strange world was here, and nothing made any sense except doing whatever Lawrence and Harrison told him to do.
He blinked. So loud.
"Stop!"
Arms were on his from both sides, tugging on him, and he heard the blaring of the car's horn.
"What the hell do you think you were doing?" Lawrence demanded. "Trying to get yourself killed?"
No. He hadn't. He was just so confused. "I thought … "
"I doubt that," Lawrence said, patting him down for injuries. The automobile screeched off again.
"Are you all right?" Fletcher asked.
"Yeah."
"I think it was this way," Lawrence said. "Let's get him home before he hurts himself."
They found the little house soon after, and the other two bundled him inside. They had no sooner got their coats off than there was a knock on the front door.
"Hello," said the woman. Lois. Her name was Lois. Pretty black lady who helped them when they arrived. "I came to check on you."
"We're fine," Lawrence said too quickly.
Fletcher said, "Stibbs might need to see your doctor again."
Lois made a sympathetic face. "Not feeling well?"
Mark blinked at her.
"He's just not quite himself."
"It's a bit of a shock, I'm sure," she said. "Dr. Jones said he shouldn't be exposed to too much stimulation." She looked at Fletcher. "He's been sitting quietly here, yes?"
Mark said, "We had a lovely walk, miss."
Lawrence groaned. Fletcher covered his face. Lois said, "Did you? Did Captain Harkness suggest that?"
"No, miss. Lawrence did."
"All right," she said, giving the other two a stern look. "Let's sit down with a nice cuppa, and calm down, and see if that helps. And if it does, I won't have to tell Jack you've been out against his orders."
"Thank you, miss." He beamed at her and her promise of tea.
***
The call came in over the police frequencies: could be a Weevil attack in-progress, could be something more. Jack shouted down to the Hub: "Load up. Bring the guns."
Gwen closed the file she was working on and got her jacket. Phil (he was very easy to think of as "Phil") was right behind her. Jack stopped him. "Not you. You can stay here."
Gwen didn't miss Ianto's look as he passed by, gear bags over each shoulder. Jack wasn't objecting to letting him out into the field properly for once.
"Oh, come on, then," Phil said. "I can use a gun, and it's not like I didn't grow up knowing about aliens and what not."
"You don't have the training, and I'm not babysitting you when my people are in danger."
Phil glanced over to where Johnson had her gear ready to go. Gwen glanced down at her own weaponry and equipment, and almost laughed. Jack's people weren't in danger, they brought danger with them.
"Actually," Martha said, "unless you think you'll need me, I'd like to stay behind and process some of this." She didn't look at Gwen, which was just as well because Gwen suddenly felt her stomach twist again.
"Are we going?" asked Johnson.
Jack gave an annoyed sound, then grabbed Phil's wrist. "You will stay in the car, do you understand?"
"Yes, Dad."
***
Jones brought lunch down to the med bay, where everyone was pretending not to gather to watch Dr. Jones put a plaster on Harrison's shoulder. Johnson took her own sandwich from the tray.
Harkness said, "Do you really not understand the words 'Stay in the car?' Because I could have sworn I said them at least three times."
"Five," said Johnson. She looked around, realised no-one had asked, and went back to pretending to work.
"I'm the one who's injured and I am not going to apologise. It would have killed you."
Harkness shouted, "It's okay if it kills me! I'm the one who comes back! Next time, let me take the hit."
Harrison made a face as Dr. Jones applied some ointment to the second, smaller wound on his neck. Changing the subject, he said, "What was that thing, anyway?"
Harkness said, "Ianto?"
Jones sighed. "An invisible face-eating alien of unknown origin. Deceased."
The large black body bag showed a large bulk that none of them had seen properly. Dr. Jones would autopsy it to try and figure out what it had been. Johnson had stopped it, with an assist from Cooper. Not that anyone had said thank you.
"You need to stay out of trouble," Harkness said, pointing his finger at Harrison. Harrison stared at the finger, and then chuckled. "Something funny?"
"Only if you know where that finger's been."
Johnson stopped listening.
***
Jack let Martha shoo him out of the med bay so her patient could get some rest while the special goo (Owen's notes were descriptive, but lacked imagination in certain areas) did its job. He ought to talk to Ianto, but he pushed that to the side for now. Ianto would take the news much better over dinner, or entwined with him on the sofa, and Jack could pretend he wasn't having the conversation as Ianto's boss. Or, not over dinner. He was going to call Alice to see if she was all right with meeting her brother, and they could have dinner with her and Steven. Ianto had already warned him to tell Phil and Alice both exactly who they were, so they didn't end up in the middle of a Greek tragedy before the pudding.
"Sir," said Johnson from her station, and Jack held his shudder. He really had to stop her using that, because he'd long since got used to a more inappropriate connotation.
He sauntered over to her and rested an arm on her chair. "What's up?"
"I think we've got a Rift spike coming up." The predictor program hummed to itself as Johnson showed him the variables. Mainframe didn't seem to like Johnson much, and stuttered oddly from time to time, but now the numbers scrolled across her screen.
Tonight. Seven o'clock. The same place they'd come through.
"Already?"
He said it to himself, but saw Johnson frown at him. "It makes sense. If the ends ripple again, they're unlikely to hit the same place in space-time." Which was entirely not how it happened, but he wasn't explaining now.
"Yeah. All right. Let me … I'll tell him. Them." None of the men had accomplished or changed anything here. Jack hated when he let himself think there was a purpose to these things. He was always wrong.
He left Johnson, but couldn't make himself go tell Phil, not yet. He strode purposefully up to the greenhouse, where he could be alone for a few minutes to think, and also have a decent view of the rest.
Gwen was already in there.
"Hey," he said, when he noticed her bent over one of the pots. Gwen had taken over the care of the plants after Owen's second death. Jack had figured it was her own private therapy and left her to the task. She tried following the random notes he'd made, but Owen hadn't even been sure of what half of the alien flora samples had been, and his notes had been for himself. Without the exact right care, a few of the plants had withered, and Jack was pretty sure Gwen cried each time, mourning all over again.
Sure enough, her eyes were red when she turned to see him. "Oh. Sorry. I was just … "
She let out a heavy breath, and Jack pulled her into a hug, let her tremble against him for a moment until she caught her bearings again. "You gonna be okay?"
She leaned back so she could look at him. "I'm fine. Just had a moment there."
"It can be our secret."
The hug was getting to that awkward stage they sometimes did, and Jack stepped back with as much grace as he could. Through the window, he saw Phil shrugging on one of Jack's shirts to replace the one shredded by the invisible face-eating alien. Ianto said something, no idea what, but Phil laughed as Ianto carried off the ruined shirt.
Jack should be down there, should be spending every last second with Phil. They only had a few hours left. The grief hit him so hard he couldn't breathe.
"Jack?"
He'd forgotten Gwen, felt her gentle hand on his arm. He rested his hand atop hers. "Just catching my breath. Been a busy couple of days."
"Oh yes," she said, with an odd hiccupping giggle.
"He has to go home tonight. The Rift is going to open up. I didn't think … I thought, since he was here, I'd get to keep him longer."
"You really love him, don't you?"
"Of course I do." Jack didn't play favourites, couldn't have favourites. No-one could have a favourite child. It would be unfair to the others, and with Jack's life ahead, there would be many others, by accident or otherwise. So all he would say was that it had been wonderful, for just a while, to have one child who didn't despise him, or fight with him, and who just loved Jack for who he was, too. "You'll see one of these days. When it's your kid, you'll do anything for him. Or her." Jack smiled. "I can see you with a little girl." She'd be cute as a button, like a little version of Gwen, and she'd be the apple of Rhys's eye, and Jack would be able to say that all the rules he'd bent to keep Gwen's life intact had been worth it.
"Do you think?" Gwen still sounded sad. She must be missing Owen something fierce today. Jack wrapped his arm around her.
"Oh yeah. Of course you're going to have to explain to Rhys why she looks like me."
Gwen let out a groan, ducked from his hold and punched him lightly on his bicep. "Don't you even start with me today, Harkness." Her tone was fierce but she was trying not to chuckle, and he was glad that he could make her laugh.
"I'm going to find better company," she said, and the smile was finally back on her face. He watched her go, then turned back to the window. Phil was right there, walking through the Hub, and Jack wanted to remember this forever, wanted to turn back the clock and keep Phil here in this place with him for as long as he could. But the clock insisted Phil had to go back, and there was no way to turn back the time.
A thought bloomed in Jack's mind, like an alien flower alive in sudden moonlight. Phil had to go back, but he didn't have to go back alone.
***
Chapter Four