Old Horizons, New Skies
WEDNESDAY
The sun was warm but it was the soft breath against his neck that woke Jack up. The heavy weight in his arm was reassuring. He didn't often get to wake up like this. Ianto was always up early, coffee ready and waiting for Jack. Except when they were woken by the sound of the alarms.
"Sleeping late," he murmured softly and Jai hummed, a soft pleased sound, lips pressed against Jack's neck.
His eyes opened. There were cobwebs on the hotels ceiling. He pulled in a deep breath, crushing down the disappointment. Jai kissed him on the nape of his neck.
"Not sleeping late, just waiting impatiently," Jai kissed him again, on the lips this time.
"How are you feeling?" Jack asked him, rolling over onto his side. The bed beneath them was still covered with splatters of blood.
"Better," Jai told him. "You know me, I heal quickly. You and me both. I thought you'd drowned. I thought, maybe, John was lying. About you."
"You talked to John," Jack replied.
"I wanted his help," Jai admitted. "He just laughed. Told me the Agency was over. Dead."
"Maybe its better that it is," Jack told him.
Jai paused.
"You're different," he said at last, "softer."
Jack didn't reply, waiting for him to continue.
"I know a lot of what we did wasn't good, Jack. But the Agency was all I ever had. You know how humans look at people like me, like we're nothing, but then they didn't anymore. Not when they saw this."
His finger ran along the edge of Jack's wrist strap.
"They wouldn't have if they'd really known what we were doing."
They lapsed back into silence and even though they were still led close it felt like there was a sudden gap between them. Without warning Jai sat up, wincing slightly.
"The idea was good, they just made mistakes. I worked it out, all the things that had gone wrong and it was right from the beginning, from the charter, but I tried to get them to change it and they wouldn't. So I thought if I talked to the inventor, if I talked to Adam Mitchell, told him not to sell the patent... and he was where you were."
"You can't do that," Jack said. "You can't change history."
"Like we never did?"
"We shouldn't have."
"I know, that's why I went to your base."
"Why?"
"To see what I was up against, to see what was keeping you here. I saw you, just on the street, and I thought... I thought maybe there was another way. I thought if you came back the others would to and we could rebuild it, make it better."
Jai turned to look at him.
"We could still do it, Jack."
"What are you talking about?"
He turned round completely then, kneeling in front of him and gripped Jack's arm, holding it up so that both their wrist straps were held between them.
"We could fix them."
"If we fix them, we could recreate the accident, we could get back." It was a more thought but Jack said it out loud.
Jai sighed, looking down for a second and then back up, his head slightly tilted. He leant forward, and let go of Jack's wrist so he could seize his hand. Holding it in both of his own.
"Why bother? We could rebuild it here. Start again - no problems, no private investors. It could be what it should have been."
"Jai, you heard them- there's nothing out there. Nothing to save or police or mess up. Just humanity, alone in the darkness."
Jai rocked back on his knees and shook his head. Letting Jack's hand free, his own falling to his side.
"We don't know that, all we know is that aliens didn't come here. Maybe they worked out there wasn't much worth taking."
"You can't be sure of that."
"I have to be, Jack. I know that right now my people aren't anything - practically crawling in the dirt. But they'll become something, they'll become mine and if they don't exist then everything I knew and loved is just gone."
Jack couldn't reply. Couldn't reassure him. He knew about losing things, and, whatever people thought, there weren't any real words of comfort. They sat like that on the bloodied bed, together and apart.
"It won't work," Jack said at last. "Too much alien tech, we won't be able to fix them. This is pointless. We don't have the parts, the materials. I mean they come from..."
Jack gestured meaninglessly. The original time travel had come from this time, but the wrist straps, whatever the Doctor said, were complicated technology. Mitchell had needed to jump blindly forwards centuries to find the material to make them work properly.
"John always said you never listened properly in classes. We have the strap, with that we have everything here on earth that we need to replicate the parts. We just need to synthesise the raw materials."
"We'd need a genius."
"We'll find one. Your friend Toshiko, she's alive, Jack, have you thought about that? I read her file, she could do it."
"Leave Toshiko alone," Jack snapped, his voice suddenly harsh. The idea of Jai near Toshiko was horrifying, and his disgust was obviously clear. He saw a sudden flash of anger on Jai's face, of strength and fury. A sudden reminder of what Jai was really like.
"Am I too grotesque, Jack, to go near your precious little friend?" Jai got to his feet, dragging the bloody t-shirt back over his head.
"Just leave her alone, I don't want her to be dragged into any of this."
"Why not? You dragged her in before. Why is this any different? I need her."
"It's just different."
"You don't get to tell me what to do anymore. I'm not going to let you stop me."
Jack got quickly to his feet, reaching out for the boy again but Jai shrugged him off.
"This isn't over," Jai said as Jack reached for him again, and then suddenly Jai was humming and the pain was echoing through him, shattering him, and the world went black.
Jack woke hours later, housekeeping banging on the almost open door, the chain at its limit. The first thing he noticed was that his wrist strap was gone, the second was that Jai had gone with it.
He took one glimpse around the blood spattered room and decided it was probably better to leave through the window, only pausing to pull on his coat. It still smelled a little like Jai.
Once he was out of the hotel it was more difficult. He had no idea where Jai would go, and nowhere to go himself. He wandered aimlessly back towards the Plass, again.
He thought for a moment of going back to the hospital... back to Ianto. The memories of the few seconds before his eyes had opened, when he'd thought it was Ianto folded into his shoulder, blended with the image of him angry and hurt beside his dying father's bed.
He had known from Ianto's records that his father had died but that had been all it was, a brief sentence, without emotion or weight and he'd never asked. That felt like an unforgivable slight now. He pushed that memory aside again with an effort.
Even without that he'd already been arrested once at the hospital, seeing Ianto was out of the question.
But he needed something. Someone. Reassurance. His eyes were drawn to a phone box.
He wanted Gwen.
The phone was already in his hand, when he hesitated again.
It was a selfish desire, a selfish need. He'd heard Gwen on the phone, happy and carefree, and he wanted, even if it were just for a second, to draw her into all this? Jack had seen her so many times, hurt and broken and lost - all because of Torchwood. He'd ruined her life by letting her follow him. Hers, and Toshiko's, and Owen's, and Suzie's, and Ianto's and everyone who he'd touched.
Jai had said that his life had only been worthwhile because of the Time Agency, but he had been wrong - the Agency had sucked them all in and turned them into monsters and unleashed them on all those worlds. It had ruined their lives, and then he'd let himself do exactly the same with Torchwood.
The Time Agency had unleashed Jai again, even if it hadn't planned to, and this world stood, unprepared and unexpecting, in need of protection. He wasn't sure if he could fight him alone. Wasn't sure if he could bear to. He owed Jai but then he owed the others too. He had to fight him. And he had to do it alone.
He slammed the phone back onto the receiver, hesitating again.
He just needed to hear her first, he just needed a reminder of what he was fighting for.
He picked the phone up and dialled her number quickly not wanting to doubt the decision now it had been made.
She answered on the fourth ring -- she always did. She'd told him, once, that two rings seemed desperate, three rings was expected and the other person might give up before the fifth ring.
"Hello," she said, "Who's that?"
He couldn't answer, didn't want to. He knew her, and if he gave her anything she'd track him down, get herself involved. The pause stretched between them.
"Is that you again?" She asked suddenly. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but why don't you just talk to me? I won't bite. Maybe I can help you."
She paused again and he almost hung up the phone, but then she was speaking and he couldn't cut her off.
"You sounded like you knew me before, when you rang -- like you thought I'd know you. If you'd just..."
The line suddenly went dead, then clicked back to life. But Gwen's voice was gone instead he could hear what sounded like a struggle and something else, something different, underlying the whole thing. It sounded like an oddly discordant hum.
"Gwen!" Jack shouted. "Gwen!"
"What I'm doing is important, Jack," Jai said from the other end of the line. "I can't let you screw it up."
"Jai, don't do this."
"Don't interrupt me. I'm just going to take your friends, so that you don't do anything, do you understand? Once it's sorted, I'll find a way to get home. I think you were right, I think we can replicate the accident and... Just let me have this. I need it, I need the Agency. We can't all leave it behind like you did. I can't but I'll make it better, something to be proud of... I want to be proud again. And maybe I can rescue Toshiko like you did."
"Jai, please," Jack begged him.
"I won't hurt them, I promise, as long as you don't do anything."
There was a slight pause.
"Don't get in my way, Jack. Do you remember those things you taught me? The secrets of torture. I don't want to use them on her, but you know me, I will."
The other end of the line went dead, leaving Jack staring at the phone. Lifeless and cold and despairing in his hand. For a moment his mind was blank. He didn't know what to do.
And then something Jai had said sunk into his shattered brain. He had said 'them'.
He had to get to the hospital. He had to find Ianto before Jai did.
Gwen woke up slowly, her head pounding again, though now the feeling had the taint of familiarity. There was an image now as well, an image of something monstrous, an avenging angel. No, not an angel.
It was almost not a surprise when she forced her eyes open to find that she was in a small windowless room, nor as she rubbed a hand across her face to find it was caked with dirt and dried blood. Neither felt real, but they matched too neatly with the last things she remembered to be a surprise.
At least she wasn't tied up.
The only real surprise was that she was not alone. DCI Costello was unconscious beside her, roughly flung on the floor, face down, bruised and bloodied.
Gwen crawled to her and as gently as possible, which granted wasn't very, turned her over. Her fingers stroked roughly down Costello's neck, struggling for a moment to find a pulse, though as she was breathing lightly that was probably, Gwen thought, more her own ineptitude than something to worry about.
As she finally found the pulse Costello's eyes flickered for a moment and then opened accompanied by a hacking cough. She sat up suddenly, her eyes wide.
"Where is he? It," she corrected her voice jerky. "Where did it go?"
"I don't know," Gwen told her, hoping mostly to calm her down.
Costello looked at her in blank confusion for a moment. Unsurprisingly perhaps. It was definitely a weird situation.
Quite apart from the obvious, Gwen wasn't sure they'd said more than a dozen things to each other in the past year. And she knew she wasn't alone. Since Costello had arrived from London a year ago, she'd barely mixed with the rest of them, preferring to keep a cold, calculating distance between herself and everyone else.
Gwen didn't think she knew a single thing about her outside of work. Even in work her knowledge pretty much amounted to the fact that she was always there all hours, tended to get the job done and most the people from her department thought she was a bitch.
"You're one of the... We work together, don't we?" Costello asked.
"I'm Gwen," she said, nodding and held out her hand.
"I'm... errr... I'm Suzie," she replied after a pause and shook her hand. There was blood on it, and grit.
"And my name's Jai," a voice said from the corner of the room.
He stood there, unnoticed, the monster who had attacked them. Almost a monster, Gwen suddenly found herself thinking, because he was also beautiful and wearing a simple hoodie and jacket and there was a shadow of frailty and pain on his face, all of which stopped him seeming entirely monstrous.
"Why have you taken us?" Suzie spat from beside her. "What are you going to do with us?"
"I don't know," he replied, "Perhaps I'm just feeling curious, like you were."
It obviously meant something, because Suzie blanched beside her.
"Don't worry," he said with a soft laugh. "Few species have managed to convince themselves of their right to cold, detached cruelty like humanity has. And having seen your apartment, Suzie Costello, cold detachment seems to be something you've made rather an art."
"Who are you?" Gwen asked him. He smiled, walked towards them and knelt down close to her before answering
"Someone very far from home, who's just looking for a way back."
"Why do you need us?"
"Don't worry, sweetheart. You're just here to make sure that an old friend of mine doesn't do anything stupid. It's in his nature, but luckily for me he cares deeply for both of you and--"
"Who?" Suzie interrupted. Jai rose to his feet as he turned to look at her, suddenly towering over them again.
"The man you locked me in with. You made a mistake, there; we weren't working together, not for a long time, not until you forced us back together. I suppose I should thank you for that, but I must admit that right now I'm a still feeling a little bitter. A little sad. I'm sure it will turn to anger soon enough."
"Is he American?" Gwen asked him when he seemed to have finished, she saw no point in upsetting him unless it was necessary.
"How do you know that?" Suzie asked her not waiting for his answer.
"An American called me."
"Why didn't you tell us, for god's sake?"
"She didn't know she was supposed to be watching for an American," Jai interrupted. "You didn't want to tell anyone."
"It's procedure..."
"I think you're scared, Suzie Costello. Not of me, you proved that. No, I think you're scared that you're not good enough, so you push yourself and you keep secrets and you don't let anyone in - because then it's your victory and every little victory is another hurdle to stop them seeing the truth about you."
Suzie's face had frozen beneath its mask of blood, stilled, withdrawn.
"Stop it," Gwen said softly. "Leave her alone."
There was a pause and Jai's face twisted for a moment, then settled back together.
"All right. For you. And for him. But she has long since lost any right to my pity. Or my mercy. What would you like to know?"
"I don't understand," Gwen said, "Why would you keeping us here, stop him? I've never even met him, not that I remember."
"He loves you, he won't risk me hurting you. You see, he comes from a very long way away, too and where he is there's another you, and another her, and he's the centre of your worlds and you're the foundation of his."
"That's not possible," Suzie said bitterly, "Don't listen to it."
"It?" Jai said quietly, "Yes, I suppose I must be an it, because if I were a him, then all those things you did to me would feel much more real. Wouldn't they? Here's a secret for you, Suzie Costello - you're right. You're not good enough and he sees it - he gets rid of you and finds her, because she's better than you can ever be."
With that, Jai turned to leave, making for a large iron door in one wall. Pulling it open with what looked like some effort. All the bolts were on the outside.
"What's his name?" Gwen suddenly, instinctively, called after him.
He paused silhouetted against the light but didn't turn round.
"You call him Jack."
Jack stumbled at last into the hospital room, breathless and aching. Ianto wasn't there. His father was, alone and wreathed in wires - a cage of tubes and monitors.
He hadn't known where to look. He'd tried Ianto's phone number but it wasn't recognised, he'd thought about Starbucks but it didn't seem likely he'd turn up there again and there were too many Jones in the phone book to offer any help. He'd never felt so lost without technical support. In the end, the only place he'd known he must turn up eventually was here. Unless Jai got to him first.
Jack pulled in a few deep breaths and then turning, closed the blinds so nobody could stare in as he had. He paced to the small window, staring out across industrial Cardiff, carefully ignoring the man in the bed. It was surprisingly sunny.
But the view could only hold him so long, and he'd always gone up to high places to think - his mind was trained to it. The view could not hold off the thoughts.
He didn't want to think about Ianto's father. He didn't want to think that he was in the room of a dying man, that he was paused on the edge of the moment when Ianto's life would be shattered, broken and then remade in the image of Torchwood.
If he'd just been sent back a few months later then he wouldn't have had to face this - Ianto would have fled to London and, eventually, to...
He didn't know. Not on this world. In their world he'd been found by Yvonne, but here anything could happen. A few more months and the matter would have been out of his hands.
It was a selfish wish.
He watched as some gulls, the scavengers of Cardiff, sailed past the window.
He had been in a coma once, he didn't remember it clearly now - just fractured memories. He'd been able to hear things, though, he remembered that. It was one of those times he'd been hiding from Torchwood, mimicking normality and there'd been an accident. He'd lingered on for months, listening to the people who cared for him desperately trying to save him and he'd just been longing for them to let him die, so he could finally heal and escape from that limbo.
Perhaps that had been how Owen felt by the end.
"It doesn't hurt," he said suddenly. "Death, it doesn't hurt."
Dying hurt and coming back hurt, but for those blissful moments between it had always been peaceful for him. He tried not to think about the things Suzie and Owen had talked about - the movement in the dark. Did Abaddon exist here? Did Death? No aliens, but what about the other things?
He turned at last to look at the old man. He didn't really look like Ianto but that was probably whatever disease was eating away at him, leaving his pale dry skin clinging to his bones. Jack knew he could have picked up the chart and known exactly what this thing was. This thing that must have haunted Ianto for years but he didn't want to, wanted to hide behind this one last barrier of ignorance.
"I know your son," he told him. "I love him, a different him. It's complicated. I shouldn't be here. But I am and I've... I... I want you to know that I won't let anything happen to him... either him."
He felt the hollow awkwardness of the lie in the base of his throat. Around them the soft hiss and tick of the machines carried on and the lie settled and became a promise. A sickening promise that Jack knew one day he wouldn't be able to keep.
He was so absorbed in the feeling, in the silent disapproving presence of the man, that he did not hear the door open.
"Who the hell are you?" Ianto asked.
He was pale, his eyes dark rimmed and heavy with sleepiness. And suspicious. Jack's heart clenched at the sight of him. He was still safe.
"My name is Jack Harkness, Captain Jack Harkness." He held out his hand anticipating Ianto's touch, almost yearning for it. Ianto just stared at it.
He was dressed casually, all soft colours and soft materials - jeans and faded t-shirt - a different man. The suits gone. Jack had to remember, he was a different man. He should treat him like one. Like a stranger. Behave like a professional.
"Are you Ianto Jones?"
"Captain of what exactly?" Ianto asked.
"Mr. Jones, I have reason to believe that you may be in some danger."
"What? Is this some sort of joke?"
"I'm afraid not. It's deadly serious."
"Who the hell are you?" Ianto asked again, his voice laced with anger this time.
"I work for a private... agency." The familiar lie slipped out. "Currently we're investigating the activities of a dangerous individual who we believe might make an attempt on your life. I've been sent to keep an eye on you. To protect you."
Jack was carefully trying to keep his voice neutral, desperately trying to hide his need for Ianto to trust him. To have faith in him.
Ianto groaned. "I don't fucking believe this," he snapped and turning stormed from the room.
"Look, I know everyone at work doesn't like me," Suzie said with an annoyed sigh, "But we could talk maybe."
Gwen paused for a moment, she had been examining the small high window in the wall where dusty sunlight was filtering through. Even if they could get up there she was pretty sure it was too small for either of them to get through. Still she could see what looked like a street and there was a faint hum of traffic and even if no shoes had wandered past yet, if they could break the window then when they did they could shout...
Suzie was crouched by the base of the heavy metal door. They'd been alone now for over an hour, according to the scratched face of her watch, and they'd hardly said a word. The things that Jai had told them had felt to her like it was hanging between them, an invisible barrier.
"Nobody..." she started, about to deny what Suzie had said and then stopped herself, deciding to start again. "You've never seemed interested in people liking you."
There was a pause, accompanied by the faint sound of metal grating against more metal as Suzie worked at one of the bolts.
"I don't have to justify myself to you," Suzie replied after a moment.
"No," Gwen agreed, "You don't, but you wanted to talk. It's difficult, you know. I don't think I know anything about you."
"There's not much to know."
"That can't be true. I mean, you came all the way from London - big and impressive and good at your job..."
"Is that a bad thing?" Suzie snapped at her.
"No, of course not. But... well, surely there's other things you care about. What about family?"
There was a heavy pause.
"Just my father," Suzie admitted a moment later.
"I'm an only child too," Gwen told her. "Rubbish isn't it?"
Suzie turned to look at her, sharp surprise in her eyes.
"I know, I know," Gwen said with a laugh. "We're supposed to be all smug and pleased - no competition, always spoilt. But I always thought all that was stupid," Gwen continued conscious that she was rambling to fill the silence, "Because it means there's no one else to share the blame either. Or the responsibility. And there's all that pressure on you to do this or achieve that and..."
Gwen was suddenly aware that Suzie's expression had grown dark. That she was staring at her. Her words trailed feebly away.
"Nothing I did was ever good enough for my father," Suzie said slowly.
"Me neither," Gwen said, trying to be companionable but too deeply aware that what they were talking about wasn't the same. She'd never heard Suzie sound vulnerable before.
"My mother's worse," she added half without thinking. It crossed her mind for a fleeting second that it was probably a good thing that her mother and Brenda, Rhys' mother, had hated each other at first sight, if not before. If they ever banded together she'd be doomed.
Suzie turned back to the door.
"Is that why you're always trying to impress everyone?" Gwen tried, wanting to draw her back into the conversation.
"I'd rather you didn't try to psychoanalyse me," Suzie replied.
"All right, I was only going to say that you really don't need to. Everyone knows you're the best, that's why they always put you on the most important..."
"They don't act like they do," Suzie interrupted.
"Of course they don't. We're Welsh, we hate seeing English people being better than us at anything. Doesn't mean it isn't true... sometimes."
Suzie straightened up, climbing to her feet as the door slowly and painfully swung towards them, its hinges freed.
"All right," Gwen told her, "I'm impressed. Sodding English."
Unexpectedly Suzie laughed.
"And you can't tell me why he'd be after me?"
"The Agency thinks it's better if you don't know," Jack told him.
He'd finally caught him the third time and convinced Ianto to stop to talk in Splott of all places, and now they were sat beside the canal. Jack thought that maybe this time he might believe him. He hoped that he would. He wasn't sure how to handle this strange, fragile Ianto. Before, he would have just reached for him, drawn him in and drawn him out. Even with a stranger he might have.
But this Ianto was something different, something in between. He was a stranger and a lover and everything else. Jack couldn't just reach out to him like that, he was too scared it would chase him away again.
"Why would anyone be after me? I've not done anything... I'm not important..."
"That's not true," Jack told him. Ianto shot him an angry look.
"You know nothing about me, don't pretend you do. Anyway, why should I believe you? You could be insane..."
"I'm not. Whether you believe me or not, Mr. Jones, I will do my job. I will follow you and I will protect you."
"I think, technically, that's called stalking. What if I call the police?"
"You'd be putting yourself and the people you love in danger. The agency I work for has always had a difficult relationship with the police; they tend not to listen to our warnings until it's too late."
Jack had a fleeting image of the Judoon - uninspired and implacable. He'd not thought about them for years. Not since the incident in London, anyway, and not for a long time before that.
Ianto didn't seem to be listening, his eyes were fixed on the slow movement of the water. "What could anyone do to us that is worse than what's already happening?" he asked softly.
The wind rose for a second, lifting their hair.
"I'm sorry about your father," Jack told him and reaching out touched his hand.
"Don't," Ianto said suddenly sitting up straighter and leaning away from him, pulling his hand away, "You don't know me. You don't get to have opinions. You don't get to feel sorry for me, or him. You don't get to even think about him." He rose quickly to his feet, clearly meaning to leave again.
Jack pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his arm. "Ianto, please don't do this."
The name slipped out, he'd been trying not to use it, trying not to let his own familiarity slip dangerously between them. Gwen had teased him once - told him that as soon as anyone heard him say Ianto's name they'd know how he felt about him.
They stood for a second like that, frozen in place, the closest they had been in this world, their eyes locked together. Jack felt the paused and felt himself lean, naturally, forward slightly. Then Ianto shook his hand off.
"Don't call me that," he said, he sounded uncertain of exactly what he was forbidding.
"I..." Jack started, but he had no time to finish as the silence was ripped apart by the sound of an explosion in the distance.
Without meaning to, Jack grabbed Ianto again, holding his arms tightly. He felt shaken, and it must have shown -- Ianto's hands were suddenly there supporting him. Leaning against each other, both their eyes scanning the sky and both finding the plume of smoke steadily beginning to snake through the air.
"It looks like it's coming from the prison," Ianto said as there was another explosion, more smoke and a long moment of silence as thoughts of the terrifying possibilities raced through Jack's mind.
"But that's a men's prison," he said.
"What?" Ianto asked and then, suddenly realising how they were stood, pulled himself away. "They have both men and women there. Have done since the old women's prison closed."
Another difference.
"He's gone after Toshiko," Jack said, "He must have. Damn."
"Who?" Ianto asked.
"Someone else I care about," Jack told him as he began to run in the direction of the smoke.
They were half way back to the police station, Gwen's eager footsteps contrasting with Suzie's reluctant ones, when the first explosion flung them to the ground.
Gwen just managed to get her hands beneath her in time to cushion the fall, the stinging of the grit mixing with the numbness of the impact. For a second she just saw pure whiteness and then the ground faded back into clarity beneath her. Her head was pounding again -- she needed another painkiller. What was it her grandmother had said? That was it, 'if you keep taking them like that, you'll bloody rattle'.
As the initial shock faded away she felt a gentle rumble beneath her palms. It was like the feel of traffic but deeper, more menacing. She might have thought that it had been an earthquake and this the aftershocks, if another explosion hadn't cracked through the air and the smell of smoke hadn't reached her nose. She pushed herself carefully onto her knees and then into a more comfortable position. Her trouser was ripped, the knee beneath it bloody and grazed but definitely movable.
Suzie was still stood, staring into the sky, where twisted smoke was beginning to rise, it looked like it was a few streets away. With a slight frown, she turned back and offered Gwen a hand. Thankfully, Gwen took it and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.
"Are you hurt?" Suzie asked her.
"That's coming from the prison, isn't it?"
"I think so," Suzie paused for a moment, "We should still go back to the police station."
It didn't sound like she meant it.
"We're probably the nearest officers here..." Gwen suggested.
She knew what Suzie knew -- that, unarmed and with no backup and no means of calling any, their duty was to head back to the station. But her heart was pounding fast and her fingers tingling - and she didn't think either had anything to do with the fall. Something was happening and she wanted to know what it was.
Their eyes met for a second and without saying a word they began to move quickly towards the prison. Two more explosions echoed towards them as they moved. The damage was clear, a gaping break marring the tall outer walls, rubble littered to either side. They moved cautiously towards it, pausing either side, pressed against the remnants of the stones and peered inside. There was a lot of smoke and for a moment Gwen couldn't see. The first thing that came into focus was the body of a guard led nearby, his body was curled on the floor, his hands on his ears, blood seeping from beneath them and from his nose and eyes.
There was another explosion and the sound of brick and stone scattering and sliding and groaning. As the wind shifted and the smoke cleared a little Gwen saw the new wing of the building. Its corner had broken away, scattered around its base, all five storeys now open to the air. Before it stood the small, easily recognised form of Jai. He barely looked capable of such destruction was barely moving, had no recognisable weapons. But then there was a deep, painful, rumble of noise from his direction and another section of building shivered onto the ground.
Suzie caught her eyes and mouthed silently, "We'll go round the other way, try to find the guards."
Ianto hesitated for a moment and then, not quite knowing why, began to run after him. Their path took them along the silent, almost deserted banks of the canal, only passing one man walking a dog and then they emerged into the streets of Splott. Here, the people were almost frozen, half paused for action, unsure of what to do. It was like that moment when you startled a rabbit and it hesitated, half in flight and half out of it, deciding whether you were a threat. They raced past them, startling them further, eyes wide and confused.
Another explosion and a few began to move.
As they passed Ianto saw the twitching of curtains, worried and angry faces peering out at the smoky sky. None of it felt quite real to him, he felt outside of it, outside of himself - as if he was watching himself in a movie where strange things were happening. Moving towards the danger and through it all the large hulk of the hospital brooding intently over them.
They were in Adamsdown before Jack paused, his breathing heavy, his face pricked with sweat. Ianto stopped with him, took two deep breaths and grabbing him forced him against the wall. "Tell me what's happening," he demanded.
For a moment Jack was silent, his eyes fixed onto Ianto with an intensity he hadn't expected, his mouth slightly open, and his breath suddenly soft. Another explosion. The echo of it trembled through the wall and through them both.
Jack looked away, back in the direction of the prison, and Ianto felt the breaking of his gaze like a sudden, sharp loss.
"There isn't time," Jack said. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try. You said 'someone else you cared about.' What did you mean?"
Ianto shook him slightly, pressing him hard back into the wall. Wanting answers. Wanting his attention again. Jack looked back at him, angry now and roughly, easily, pushed him away.
"Did you mean me? Did you mean that you cared for me? Why?" There had been something in the way he'd said Ianto's name, something that Ianto hadn't quite been able to grasp or understand.
Jack sighed. "Yes, I meant you. It's complicated."
"You don't even know me."
"Like I said, complicated." He paused for a moment, looked torn about what to do and then, with a grimace, he began to speak again. "I'm not from around here. I'm from another world, almost identical to this one - in that world you work for me... I care for you and for the girl inside that prison. The man going after her is from my world too. And if we don't go soon, he'll hurt her."
It was... well, 'unbelievable' didn't really begin to cover it.
"I said it was complicated. Look, you don't have to believe me but I do have to go."
Ianto wasn't sure that he did believe him but he couldn't deny that something was happening. From the edge of the alleyway he could see people running past, cars crashed and abandoned and the air filled with dust and smoke. He had a sudden glimpse of his father, in his death bed, untouchable.
"You care for her? And me, the other me, he cares for her too?" He asked Jack.
"Deeply."
"Then we have to save her."
She pressed herself further into the corner, wishing the wall would swallow her, longing it to. She could feel the building vibrating through the stone.
A small part of her, the part still called Toshiko, was busy trying to work out what was happening, trying to find the cause, but she'd stopped listening to her long ago. There was another explosion, loud and painful and the sound of screaming. She pressed her hands painfully against her ears, not wanting to hear it.
That was the thing she still hated about this place, still hadn't got used to, hadn't gained that magical immunity that didn't make things better but made them numb - she still couldn't quite come to terms with how it was always crushingly noisy here or destructively quiet and she had no choice over which she was caught in.
Another explosion, more screams. Another voice was screaming at her now, a broken desperate voice in her own head -- Toshiko's voice.
"Something's coming," it said, "Something dangerous. You should get ready, please be ready."
But she had learned long past that listening to that voice only caused trouble and pain, so she pressed herself further into the wall wishing that it would swallow her and never let her go.
Alex Hopkins drummed his fingers against the police cars dashboard in frustration. Their siren was blazing, but the streets were gridlocked, half the cars abandoned and they weren't getting any closer. In the distance there was another explosion and his fingers paused for a moment and then took up the beat again, more incessantly now. If he had been off duty when the attack had happened he would have already been there and half the team would have been on the way, weapons at the ready. He should never have taken the promotion, it took up too much time - too much time playing it by the book.
"Fuck this," he said, flipping his seat belt loose and pushing the cars door open.
"Sir?" Smith said, his surprise clear.
Alex was already out of the car, he leaned back down for a moment, looking back into the car. "I'm going on by foot. Call through to the station and get there when you can."
"But Sir, the protocols..."
There was definite panic in his voice now but Alex wasn't listening. He slammed the door and, with a feeling of excitement and joy, began to run, winding through the abandoned cars.
The sky was beginning to darken as they reached the prison, the smoke standing out palely against it. The building, the remnants of it, was in tatters, walls broken and smoking and bodies everywhere - guards and women mostly. Jai must have headed straight to the women's wing. The scene had a sickeningly familiar feel to Jack, one he had tried to escape again and again but had never managed to. A battlefield. The perpetual soldier, someone had called him that once long ago and far in the future. They hadn't known the half of it.
He glanced wearily and as surreptitiously as possible towards Ianto. Neither had said anything since they left the alley. Ianto hadn't really reacted at all and Jack had no idea whether he'd believed anything he'd said or not. He'd thought he'd long since passed the time when he couldn't read Ianto but now it felt like he was back before he'd learnt about Lisa - guessing and second guessing and hoping and hopeless. And mostly lost.
Jack wasn't sure what was worse, the things that made this Ianto feel so different or the things that made him seem the same.
He felt the deep rumble of danger that underscored those rare moments whenever Jai appeared in his dreams, one of the endless lost souls that haunted his nights and kept him from sleep.
"This way," he said softly.
The easiest route inside seemed to be to scramble up the rubble, ignoring as much of its hidden horrors as they could and steadying themselves against the sudden rushes as the stone slipped away beneath them. They emerged, mercifully quickly, into the one of the fourth floor corridors, its end now gaping hungrily at the smoky sky. Jai was there, crouched in front of a door, his lock picking equipment in his hands. Clearly, he wasn't planning to blast this one open. Toshiko must be inside.
As Jack pulled himself inside, Ianto besides him, another cracked brick shifted beneath his feet, rattling down the heap.
Jai stood, turning quickly and gracefully as he moved, alert. Dangerous. Jack couldn't see any weapons but then he didn't need them. As he saw Jack his face twisted angrily and then his eyes settled upon Ianto. The boy was tense beside him, nervous and angry, never a good combination.
"What are you trying to do, Jack? Put your precious Torchwood back together?"
"I told you I wasn't going to let you touch her."
"I don't think you get a choice," Jai's eyes were still fixed upon Ianto. For a moment they were all silent, something twisted inside Jack.
"Leave him alone," he said, his throat suddenly dry and his voice hoarse.
"'Leave him alone, don't touch her...' Who do I get to play with, Jack? You always used to be so good at sharing. In fact, didn't you used to insist on it? What has he told you?" He suddenly asked Ianto.
Ianto didn't reply, but straightened slightly, stiffening.
"That you're something special? That you're part of his team?"
"Yes," Ianto admitted.
"Do you want to know why you're in his team? Why he saved you now?"
"Don't do this," Jack warned him, his own eyes now fixed on Ianto.
"Because he's fucking you," Jai said, "You know, the other you. If it's any consolation you're probably enjoying it. I should know. I used to be you."
Ianto didn't react, his face a careful mask. That, at least, felt uncomfortingly familiar.
"It's not like..." Jack started but Jai interrupted him
"Enough."
Jack wrenched his eyes away from Ianto, beginning to move just a moment too late. In a single, fluid move Jai turned, gripped the door by its handle and the small window set in it and ripped it loose. Jack expected there to be a scream, something, a reaction but instead there was simply silence. Jai was staring inside.
"Is this it?" He murmured as Jack shouldered him aside and pushed into the cell.
Toshiko was curled in the corner of the room, her hands around her head, her face buried into her knees.
Jack's breath was trapped for a moment in his throat.
There she was.
Alive. Terrifyingly, gloriously alive.
He turned to face Jai. "I'm not going to let you do this."
"How are you going to stop me Jack?"
Gwen edged up the stairs carefully behind Suzie. The gun felt wrong and heavy in her hand. They had taken them from the bodies of the guard. Whatever had killed the ones outside had spread farther and faster than she could have believed possible. They hadn't found anyone alive until they reached the women's wing.
They could hear the sound of voices, male voices above them. There were three of them, one of them instantly recognisable as Jai, none of them noticed as they rounded the corner. She stared at the other two - one of them had to be Jack. Her eyes fixed upon one, he was dressed in a long military style coat, dusty but impressive. Him, she thought, it's him.
Suddenly everybody was moving, Jai dragging a door, terrifyingly, from its hinges - the man pushing past him, suddenly out of sight.
"How are you going to stop me, Jack?" She heard Jai say and then suddenly, menacingly the sound of humming drifted towards them. It felt like the soft, subtle sound was vibrating through her skull.
Without warning, Suzie stepped forward, her gun raised and fired.
The noise stopped, Jai fell backwards, one hand clenched to his neck, his eyes piercing them for a moment. And then he screamed, a horrid, wet sound.
It was almost as if she saw the sound, rippling through the building towards her, she flung herself backwards into a doorway, pressed against a door. The wood shaking beneath her and around her the building began to fall. Collapsing as easily as a house of cards.
Jack heard the gunshot and Jai suddenly fell backwards, clutching his throat. He had no idea what was happening but as he saw the muscles in Jai's cheek tighten he knew what would happen next.
There was no time to do anything.
He turned, the world both speeding past and moving sluggishly slow.
Toshiko was still huddled in the corner, unmoving. There was no time.
He flung himself over her. All he could do.
She gasped but for a moment didn't move - then her hands buried themselves in his collar, clinging to him.
And something hit him.
Alex staggered through the gap in the wall as the final collapse happened. Dust and debris surged towards him, almost knocking him from his feet. As the dust passed and his stinging vision cleared, he saw the prison... or what was left of it. It was much worse than Alex had expected, more like a war zone than a building - filled with the personal tragedies that each battle left. He'd been a soldier once, it felt like a long time ago now. He'd got out as soon as he could. It had been one of those things that haunted him, that if it ever emerged what he did in the deep of the night that they'd seize on that fact. He could see it, sometimes in his dreams, in that same newspaper type you saw in superhero movies:
'Former soldier can't cope with normal life, position in police doesn't satisfy his violent desires, turns vigilante.'
The whole dream probably said rather too much about his psyche.
He was still picking his way through the rubble when the last person he expected stumbled dustily out of the darkness. It was Gwen Cooper, there was blood on her forehead, but it looked like it wasn't too bad. He moved to her as quickly as possible.
"Are you alright?"
She nodded and then winced, one hand reaching for her forehead.
"I think I need more pills, no matter what my gran says," she said softly with a slightly broken laugh. "The door fell away."
She swayed slightly and he caught her, stopping her from falling, she gripped one of his arms.
"I always liked you," she said her voice soft and slightly slurred. "If it wasn't for Rhys..."
She sighed, leaning into him and he choked back a startled laugh. He'd always liked her, had been keeping an eye on her - just in case he needed someone else...
"It's alright Gwen, stay with me. Do you know where DCI Costello is?"
There had been people out searching for them both for hours. Panicked people. Nobody wanted to find out there was a cop killer around.
She seemed to sharpen, shook her head slightly and peered across the rubble.
"She's... they... they're over there, they were in the building when it fell, I couldn't dig them out, came to get help."
He didn't wait to ask who 'they' were. In moments he had lowered Gwen onto what looked like a relatively stable pile of masonry and began to dig. It was easy to find the first man, already half out of the rubble, but too weak to pull himself free.
"Hey," he said to him, "I'm a policeman. How are you feeling?"
The man gave him a scathing look which in a lighter situation might have made him laugh.
"I've been better," the man said, a slight hiss betraying his pain. "Don't think anything's broken, just... stuck."
Alex shifted the heaviest bits of stone with a grunt of effort. The man was young, early twenties at least and what he could see of his clothing didn't look like it belonged in the women's wing of a prison.
"OK, I'm going to pull... What's your name?"
"Ianto."
"Good Welsh name. I'm Alex. Okay, Ianto, I'm going to try and pull you out. What I need to do is to let me know if anything's really hurting. Alright? Now just let me know when you're ready."
Bracing himself carefully, he slipped his hands under Ianto's arms and waited. Ianto pulled in one deep breath and then another and nodded and Alex heaved.
At first he didn't think it was going to work and then, with the sound of ripping material and a groan of pain, he slipped free.
They rested for a second, both breathing deeply, Ianto cradled against his chest. Across from him he saw Gwen getting back to her feet, shaky and loose. He was about to tell her not to, when Ianto was suddenly rising to his own, stumbling away from him.
"Steady, you might..." he started to say but Ianto interrupted him.
"He was over here, I think he was over here..." He started moving the crumbled bricks, pushing and throwing them out of the way. "We have to get him out."
Alex glanced for a second at Gwen, she was stood a little way away, on one of the few bits of precarious floor remaining, looking around her. He looked back at Ianto and the pile of rubble - he couldn't see how anything could have survived underneath all that. It didn't matter, in three steps he was besides Ianto, digging as well.
It took them nearly three minutes to reach the man - Jack Harkness, he thought, their escaped prisoner - and when they did he thought his initial reaction had been right. He was dead.
He looked back at Ianto. The boy's expression was bleak. He'd seen that expression too many times.
Without warning, the body suddenly gasped in a lungful of air, seizing his leg. Jack's eyes were wide, his face streaked with blood and dust and very much alive. Alex steadied him, his fingers brushing his wrist and he felt a shudder like electricity running through his hand.
"Alex?" he said, shocked recognition clear on his face.
"How do you..." Alex started but Jack was scrambling to his knees, looking suddenly scared. It struck Alex, without quite knowing why, that this wasn't an expression you saw on his face often.
"Please, let her be alright," he muttered and as he shifted Alex saw why. There had been a girl sheltered beneath him.
She didn't move, not until Jack reached out and touched her -- then she flinched. Jack laughed, a sound of utter relief.
"It's alright, Toshiko," he said. "It's alright."
Slowly, unsteadily, her hands moved away from her face and through lank hair, dark stunned eyes stared at them.
"I'm going to look after you," Jack promised her and climbing to his feet, carefully he pulled her to hers. She had a few bruises, but he looked remarkably unhurt. Alex couldn't even see where the blood had come from.
"I've found her," Gwen suddenly called from nearly the bottom of the wreckage.
Alex reached her first and with horror saw Suzie, like a rag doll, led amidst the rubble. Gwen knelt beside her.
"She's breathing," she told him, "but she's hurt. She must have fallen and there's a lot of blood. We need to get her to the hospital."
He was barely aware of the other three reaching them.
"No," he said, not quite sure why, "I know a doctor, he's closer."
He gathered Suzie's limp body into his arms and began to move.
They moved through the streets dark, deserted streets quickly, one of his hands gripping Toshiko firmly, pulling her with them.
Jack spared one glance back for the prison, but he knew Jai wouldn't be there anymore. Then his eyes fixed upon where Alex was carrying Suzie.
It had been so long since he had seen him. January 31st, 1999 - it was a date difficult to forget for so many reasons. He'd spent a long time after that day wondering how long it had been since he'd really seen him before that. How he had failed to notice what was coming.
And here he was, years after he should have died - alive and whole and still a hero.
Saving Suzie.
If Alex had lived, would Suzie have gone mad? Would he have succeeded where Jack had so spectacularly failed?
He could see both of them, images flashing through his head - both clever and brave and strong and heroic and broken and mad and murderous. For a second, he had to stop - pulling in a deep breath, trying to calm the madness - watching the two of them drawing father away from him - again.
Then he was running again. Following them. Again.
He felt torn and tired and broken, the only thing settling him, the warmth of Toshiko's hand as she stumbled after him.
"This is it," Alex called, turning back his eyes meeting Jack's, as they reached a big imposing building. The look lingered for a moment and then he turned back and pressed the bell.
It was long minutes waiting for the door to open and when it did, with how he felt now, Jack would hardly have been surprised to find Owen behind it.
It wasn't... it was James, Dr. James Lawson. Only a scattering of grey hairs at his temple, different from how Jack remembered him. James Lawson. Who had died as millions of people had counted down to the end of a millennium. He surveyed them with a stern critical expression, only slightly marred by the fact that he was wearing a dressing gown, and sighed.
"I know you haven't had much time for us recently," he said snappishly, glaring at Alex. "But I wasn't expecting you to put a new team together and if you truly had to, you could have at least taken better care of them."
Alex didn't reply, just gazing up at him silently, openly, pleading.
Jack wondered if this James was in love with Alex too - deeply, annoyingly, unrequitedly in love. They'd slept together, him and James, more than once over that shared feeling - finding solace, relief and maybe a little joy in each other's bodies. Each thinking of Alex.
James had told him once, in the not quite bitter light of morning, that he thought maybe it was better like that - that he enjoyed their friendship hidden behind ill-disguised sniping and moaning. And that at least that way it never really changed.
And then Alex had shot them both.
"Oh for fuck's sake," James groaned moving aside, "come in. The last thing I need is you lot drawing attention. I'll end up with the police on my doorstep again."
He glanced over Gwen's dirty, torn uniform.
"More police," he added.
Alex watched as James swept the cooking utensils off his kitchen table. It was large and wooden and, if you looked too closely, had ingrained blood stains from the other bodies that had led on top of it. He lowered Suzie onto it and without speaking for a moment they set to work, James pulled her bloody shirt open, to reveal the gaping gash across her stomach, as Alex searched through the cupboard for the emergency surgery kit.
"Nasty," James muttered, "But lucky it's not lower. What's her name?"
"Suzie," Alex said as he opened the case and began pulling out equipment, "She works with me."
James looked up at him, his eyebrow quirking upwards slightly.
"Bringing your work home with you? That's not like you, Alex."
"You were closer than the hospital and I think they might..." he trailed off, he'd been going to say that they'd be busy soon, but he had his doubts that anybody else could have survived that attack.
"Very flattering," James said as he leant closer to the wound, prodding it slightly. "God knows why I let you bother me in the dead of the night like this."
"It's my charm and natural good looks," Alex told him.
He caught a glimpse of movement at the corner of his eye and looked up to see Jack leaving the kitchen. He looked back to see James watching him.
"You two," he said suddenly, turning to look at Gwen and Ianto - "I need you to go and get me towels - as many as you can carry. This is going to be messy. Upstairs, second door on the left."
As soon as they'd left he turned back to him.
"Go and talk to him," he said sharply.
Alex didn't bother to pretend he didn't know who he was talking about. "You need my help," he told him.
"Surprisingly, Alex, I'm a rather marvellous doctor even when you're not here holding my hand. I'll get those two to help me - I suppose you'll end up keeping them so might as well start the training now."
Alex hesitated again and James glared at him.
"There's a sort of gravity about you," James snapped at him, "God help us, but you draw people to you. When I look at you, I want to be near you - no matter what - and when I look at him I feel exactly the same. That's the first time I've ever felt like that about anyone else, and don't pretend you don't feel it too. You want adventure? Well, he's it. Go and talk to him. You're no good to me distracted like this. Now bugger off and leave those of us who are up to it to be heroes."
It was one of those old, falsely grand houses that held odd echoes for Jack. He could remember when these houses were new and fresh, and now they were dusty, slightly faded, ghostly. It was all dark woods and rich patterns and beautiful complicated windows decorated with edges of coloured glass. The living room was dark, the only light coming from the moon, spilling across the dusty carpet. Jack's fingers lingered on the light switch for a second and then his hand fell away. Right now he was ready for a bit of darkness. He sat heavily on the couch and let his hands run across his face, trying to smooth out the aches and pains, rub away all the hurtful, lingering memories.
He could hear the others in the kitchen. All those people he'd loved and right now he'd never felt so alone. So unsure of how he fitted into this jigsaw. And a bit of him felt that if he could find where he fitted, find where his edges matched theirs, and then the picture would change - suddenly become a tragedy.
His hands were still rubbing, uselessly at his face, when he felt someone sit down on the sofa beside him. Jack looked up. It was Alex, all soft rough edges.
"So you're Jack Harkness," he said.
Jack almost laughed, the feeling brewing in his stomach unable to burst through with Suzie laid open on a table next door. That had been the first thing Alex had said to him when he'd arrived from Torchwood One.
"Captain Jack Harkness," he corrected him, momentarily enjoying the taste of the familiar words and the feel of the soft memory.
Those first few weeks with Alex had been tight and uncomfortable - all last names and aggressive bravado - afterwards, much afterwards, Alex had told him that he'd been trying to impress him. It had worked of course.
"So," Alex said, his tone nonchalant, "I couldn't help but notice that back there you already knew my name when I haven't been able to think of a way for you to have known it. Unless you can read minds."
There was a pause and Jack suppressed a frustrated sigh.
"Can you read minds?" Alex asked, half a challenge and half a joke.
"Nope," Jack told him. "I've known a few people who could, but never a skill I managed."
Nor wanted, he thought. Mind reading was not so much a double-edged sword as a very sharp single-edged one -- it was just that it was always the wrong edge that was sharp. Right now though, with Alex sat quiet and unshakable beside him, he might have been willing to reconsider that position.
"Alright, no mind reading," Alex replied. "So how do you know my name."
A few possible answers flitted through Jack's mind, each as unlikely as the next. He dismissed them all. Alex wasn't stupid. He took a deep breath - he'd trusted Ianto, this Ianto, enough and the world had failed to end. And if anyone was likely to actually understand, then it would be Alex.
"There isn't just one world," he started. "One here, there's hundreds of them - some completely different and some, some with just one little thing changed. Those worlds can almost feel like this one, the same places, the same people..."
He paused for a second, debating what he should say next, Alex didn't interrupt him.
"I come from one of those worlds," he settled for at last, "I got trapped here by accident. Me and Jai, the alien who attacked the prison. "On that world I... know you." His mouth had hovered for a second, about to say 'knew'. Alex didn't seem to have noticed or if he had, had chosen to ignore it. Jack waited in silence for a moment that felt like hours but probably was not even minutes. "What are you thinking?" He asked at last, unable to bear the silence any longer.
"That you're probably mad," Alex said after a second's hesitation. "But that I don't want you to be."
"When James answered the door..." Jack started and Alex looked at him too quickly, his mouth quirking slightly.
"So on that world you know James as well? He'll be pleased."
"He was a member of your team... and I was, too. I was going to ask -- he mentioned a team here. What sort of team?"
"Nothing that organised - just a small group of us. Investigating mysteries, going after criminals the police won't."
"Is that something you should be telling me?"
"Probably not, but there's something I trust about you."
"And how did the team come together?"
"By accident mostly. It just seemed to fall into place."
Jack put the answer aside, though it troubled him, settling at the back of his mind, an uncertain threat. An unasked question. "You believe me, don't you?" There was no need in the question, just disbelief.
"Yes," Alex replied.
"Why?"
He laughed, a soft sound in the moonlight. "I could tell you it was because you knew my name," he told him. "But it isn't, it's that feeling -- the feeling that something bigger is supposed to be happening to you. And that you have to be ready for it."
Jack heard echoes in those words. In his head he heard a different Alex's voice - 'It's the twenty-first century, Jack. Everything's going to change. We're not ready.'
"I've spent my whole life waiting for an adventure. What sort of man would I be if I turned away from it now?"
Probably a wise one, Jack thought. Not like me, not like Jai, or Martha or Owen or Gwen or Rose or you. "Are you going to call the police?" He asked instead of replying - there was no reply he could give.
Alex was watching him closely. "Two escaped prisoners. I should. But there's something about you, Jack Harkness. Maybe you're what I've been waiting for."
"I'm not," Jack told him.
Alex's eyes were enough to tell Jack that he didn't believe him, but he didn't try to argue he just smiled with a slight nod.
"Which just leaves one question," Alex said. "What the hell is an alien?"
Gwen met the boy's eyes as they stood, lost for a second, in the bathroom. The same tired, drawn, baffled expressions and, for a second, breathless desperate laughs broke from both their lips.
"It's all a bit mad isn't it?" she said softly, as they both regained themselves and he began rooting through a cupboard.
"That's an understatement," he said but he smiled, a slightly broken smile, as he turned and pushed a pile of towels into her arms. "We should go back down."
She was half way down the stairs, when she noticed the girl from the prison. She had completely forgotten her. She was stood by the front door, her back pressed against it, looking scared and abandoned but not about to escape. Gwen smiled at her but didn't know what to say. What did you say to a convicted terrorist?
Before she could make up her mind, Gwen had swept past her and into the kitchen. She glanced back but couldn't see her. The boy had paused in the doorway of the room next door. He stood there, immobile for a second and then swallowing turned and followed her into the kitchen. Gwen hadn't recognised the girl until just then, hadn't really even looked at her, but as soon as she had - she'd known who she was - Toshiko Sato, she'd been in all the papers last year. Mostly Gwen had felt sorry for her - they'd said that the people she'd been passing state secrets to had held her mother captive. That wasn't an excuse for putting thousands of lives at risk, that's what the press had said.
They'd never found the mother.
Alex wasn't in the kitchen, and for a moment, she paused, awkward. The doctor met her eyes and smiled.
"I'm James," he said.
"Ianto," the boy offered.
"Gwen," she said and then thought to add, "And she's Suzie. Suzie Costello."
"Right," James looked surprised for a moment. "This is Suzie Costello. Well, she's going to be alright, I just need to patch her up a little. I might need some help, but don't worry -- I'm not planning to trust you to do anything more than pass me things."
Gwen glanced back at where Toshiko was stood again, she had turned away, her face pressed against the glass of the door. When she looked back, James was watching her.
"I think perhaps," he said softly. "That I only really need one person to pass me things."
She nodded gratefully and turning headed back down the corridor.
Toshiko turned large, frightened eyes towards her as she approached and Gwen, realised with a silent inner curse, how she must look filthy in her battered police uniform. But then, she was used to being the last person anyone wanted to see, in her uniform.
"My name's Gwen," she told her, trying to push as much warmth into her voice as possible. "What's your name?"
Toshiko looked away for a second as if it were a difficult question.
"Tosh," she said eventually, her voice rough as if she hadn't used it for a long time.
"It's nice to meet you, Tosh. I bet you're feeling a little scared. I am. But I think we're going to be safe here."
Tosh didn't respond.
"You must be getting cold here, by the door. Why don't we go upstairs and get cleaned up a little. I know I need it."
Another pause, but then Tosh nodded and Gwen followed her thankfully up the stairs.
Gwen waited outside, giving Toshiko the privacy of the bathroom. She'd probably had little enough of that recently.
She'd been around a few prisons, mostly when she was training, and had mixed feelings about them. And there had been times, when she was at an arrest, when the criminal was just teetering on the edge and hadn't plunged yet into true evil, that she wondered sending them to one was the right thing to do. Now, thinking of the trembling broken girl hidden behind the door, she was less certain than ever.
Toshiko emerged from the bathroom, back in her clothes, pink-faced and hair wet.
"Will you just wait for me a moment?" Gwen asked her. "While I clean up?"
Tosh nodded, a slight movement and, biting her lip, stepped out of the way.
Gwen didn't close the door behind her, leaving it ajar.
She surveyed herself critically in the mirror for a second - she was bruised and dirty and dusty. With quick economic movements she pushed the plug into place, turned on the tap and shrugged off the bits of her uniform that looked most police-like, until she was left in her trousers and the black vest she wore underneath. Then, stopping the tap again, she began to wash the worst of the dirt and dust from her skin and hair.
It took about two minutes, all told, one eye always fixed on the door and Toshiko.
Afterwards she paused only to look at herself in the mirror again (better, if not great) and, gathering up her uniform, headed back to Toshiko.
"All better," she told her brightly and then, pausing only for a split second's doubt, pushed the door opposite open.
Thankfully it was a bedroom.
"James -- he's the man who owns the house -- he said you could sleep in here," Gwen lied, the sudden urge to put the girl back together - to rebuild her - winning against any sense of the professional distance she should have been keeping with a convicted criminal.
Toshiko walked inside slowly, her eyes brushing across the room. Gwen hovered in the doorway, uncertain.
"Are you going to be alright?" she asked after a second.
For a moment, as the girl turned quickly to look at her, it seemed as if Toshiko would just nod again. But then she spoke. "Please, don't leave me."
"Alright," Gwen said, "I won't go if you don't want me to."
She prattled more nonsense, aware she was doing it, as Toshiko climbed uncertainly into the double bed and then settled onto the mattress next to her.
"Suppose I'd better shut us up and let you go to sleep," she said after another moment.
"No," Toshiko said, the quickest she'd spoken yet. "Please, just keep talking. It doesn't matter what you talk about."
Every possible thought fled Gwen's head -- it was a terrible thing, sometimes, to be told you could say anything. Something.
"OK," she said, forcing the words out and keeping her voice soft. "My boyfriend thinks we should move in together but I'm not sure. You see those couples sometimes, who live together and they barely seem to like one another. And his mother's bound to be a nightmare about the whole thing..."