The Ghost of You

A/N: The Ghost of You is an eventual Torchwood/Doctor Who crossover that does not acknowledge Miracle Day. (Sort of AU if you will)

A ghost from Jack's past has no memory of him; but she just keeps getting in the way. Is recruiting her into Torchwood the only way to keep her safe? Or is it really Jack who's the one that's in danger?

Prologue

Torchwood: outside the government, beyond the police. Tracking down alien life on Earth, arming the human race against the future; the twenty-first century is when everything changes, and you've got to be ready.

The air was chilly beneath the Cardiff streets. The walls had been reinforced; coat after coat had been painted on the walls. The Hub looked new, clean and screamed of technology; spared no expense. The rooms had an organic flow to them; a tactical base, an autopsy room and a lunch room hidden to the side of the entrance. The new design was practical, spacious and refreshing.

It wasn't what Jack saw. He saw the blood, the pain and the fear; the blood of his colleagues, the pain of his actions and the fear of his friends. It was the first time he'd been down here since Gwen had abruptly declared that Torchwood was back in business and had began the redecoration. All of this was completed in a month and Jack was impressed; he had no idea Gwen had the connections to get this done. Two days ago Gwen had instructed Jack to meet him at the entrance; he reluctantly agreed.

'Welcome home,' Gwen pulled Jack out of his internal flogging and torment after they had completed a lap, 'You like it don't you?' she questioned with the obvious implication of even if you don't like it you better lie or I'll kill you over and over again until you do.

'Oh course I do!' Jack read the implication and lied. Truth was nothing could take away his guilt. He saw Owen, Tosh and Ianto in the walls; they haunted him. Jack knew that people died. Everyone except for him, and perhaps the Doctor, did. These people, these friends, didn't die in the normal sense. They didn't die peacefully surrounded by grandchildren; they died prematurely. They died violently. They had died because of Jack; they had died for Jack and it had to stop. He turned and leaned on the railing leading up to his central office.

'But...?' Gwen growled, crossing her arms over her chest.

'It's just- should we keep Torchwood operational?' Jack asked, refusing to meet Gwen's fiery stare.

'Sure, we'll shut up shop; let UNIT get all the glory!' Gwen snorted, 'Come on Jack, we've got new recruits to vet. We already missed out on having Martha and Mickey on side because you've been dragging your heels.'

It was true; Mickey and Martha had taken a leave of absence from UNIT when they got married, in the hopes that Torchwood would be ready and waiting for them. Unfortunately Jack was still mourning the loss of Ianto and declared, in no uncertain terms, that Torchwood was dead! Gwen had been busy raising her daughter and echoed the sentiment. She didn't care about the mission anymore; that was until the point of the mission came crashing down on her doorstep. You could take the girl out of Torchwood, but you couldn't take Torchwood out of the girl.

'Who are they then?' Jack sighed as he reluctantly ascended the stairs to his office. Whose death certificate am I signing now? Jack wondered as he noticed the IPad that adorned his desk; no paper trail in this day and age. Jack just went with the flow. He sat down in the leather chair that Gwen had picked for him; it was comfy. Perhaps he could stay here and never go out into the field again. Never fall in love again; never get hurt.

Who was he kidding?

Gwen brought up the first image and the chiselled face immediately grabbed and aroused Jack. Yep, that didn't last long; the young man's profile was strong, young and reeked of intelligence.

'Luke Franks-' Gwen operated the pad to reveal more statistics, the young man's eyes pierced through the screen and invited Jack. There was a story there, and Jack wanted to know it. '-he's our new doctor. He was hard to pin down; so he's a no fly zone... do you understand me?' Gwen gave Jack a knowing look before closing his file and opening another one up.

Another young man, his face told a different story; his ragged unkempt beard was not his choosing; but he wore his ginger hair with pride. His eyes betrayed him; he'd seen war! Jack knew him to be younger than his picture declared. This man didn't want to be taken seriously; that was fine by Jack.

'Tristan Gable; he's our tech man. He was actually recommended by Tosh!' Gwen informed Jack who raised an eyebrow at this. 'She spoke of him fondly and she tried contacting him once or twice before she dies. He had her as his reference-'

'-She's been dead for two years Gwen! They can hardly be close!' Jack snapped.

'-he's been in a Judoon prison camp! He was devastated when I told him the news; he applied to surprise her! We need him! He's ex-UNIT so we don't need to break him in.'

'Can we-' think about this? Jack began, but couldn't bring himself to complete the sentence. When did Gwen become the one in charge?

'-These are our guys Jack. We're back in business- deal with it.' She began to walk towards the door but turned back, 'Jack; those things downstairs detected something and I haven't got a bloomin' clue how they work. We start tomorrow and so help me you're gonna do it with a smile on your face; you hear?' She wagged her finger at Jack.

'Sure thing, boss.' Jack intoned.