Jack had been to America many times in his life. As a time agent he'd been to Nevada to pick up a gambler who kept using a time hopper to repeat his winning games and getting double, triple, and quadruple money. He'd been to Philadelphia to rescue a woman and her daughter who had fallen through a time rip from 3241 into 2210. However, he had never been to the States in 1892 before.
Taking a boat over seas had been an interesting experience, not exactly the height of Jack's cleanliness but he'd seen worse. Now the boat had docked at Ellis Island and the strange mixture of passengers were filed off to be processed. Luckily Jack had traveled first class and got to go through the quicker line, that is to say rich. Jack wasn't exactly rich right then but the man he had pinched the ticket of had been. Too bad for that fellow but Jack needed to get to the states.
Through a man who had returned to Cardiff from New York City Jack had heard about some rumors of strange occurrences out in the western United States. Things had been disappearing while other things had reappeared miles away. At times people disappeared and new ones, people no one knew, appeared. Some of the people had seemed 'very out of place,' as the rumor went. It was suspicious enough that the stories had spread to the east coast, all the way to New York City. It could have been nothing, just rumors. However, it also could have been a rip in time, like the rift. If it was Jack might be able to use it.
Jack made his way up to the teller.
"Name?"
"Captain Jack Harkness."
The man looked up. "Aren't you American? You sound it. What are you doing here?"
"I'm sort of from all around, thought I should check through, just in case."
The man shrugged. "Your wait. Down that way."
Jack turned and walked where the man pointed carrying his lone bag at his side. Two signs were hung on the wall 'English Speaking' and 'Other.' The country was still getting use to this new type of immigrant Jack knew, people from western and southern Europe. So, it seemed that the immigration stations had not quite caught up with all these new languages yet. Still, Jack walked over to the much shorter line of English speakers.
While he stood waiting Jack let his mind wander. It had been 23 years since Jack had jumped back from the game station. Twenty-three years and he hardly felt older, physically at least. So many years had passed slowly by him. He knew it wouldn't be for another hundred years that he caught up with the Doctor and that was clearly longer than the average human life span. Yet, Jack knew that he didn't look 23 years older in any way. Perhaps the jump had slowed down his aging. He had heard stories of Time Agents getting trapped in the wave when passing through time and aging rapidly or getting sucked back a century too far. Such things did happen and perhaps something like that had hit him. Then again this could be something the Tardis had done and maybe did to all companions, lengthened life spans. It would make sense after all they were Time Lord ships, who knew what they could do.
Still, Jack knew no matter what he couldn't live all the way to 2007, let alone 2000 at this rate. He had to find a way to speed up, jump ahead or something if he was going to get back to the Doctor.
Glancing behind him Jack's eye was suddenly caught by an attractive Italian woman walking towards the other line. She was carrying three large pieces of luggage and was clearly struggling. Jack didn't really have to get through his line in any amount of time so he stepped out and walked back to the woman.
"Do you need some help?" He asked, stopping in front of her with his hand out.
"Help?" She said. "You help?"
Clearly she knew a little English so Jack just nodded, taking the largest of her bags off her hands.
"Jack Harkness." He said.
She smiled shyly. "Maria Quattrocchi."
He gave her one of his most winning smiles and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes.
"You'll like it here," Jack said. "Land of opportunity and all."
She smiled and laughed. Jack didn't think she understood what he'd actually said but it didn't seem to matter to her. He walked with her to the end of the line and stood beside her, waiting. In the end did it really matter if he went through the wrong line? The man at the head would probably be happy to hear some coherent English for a change and just let him through.
"So," Jack asked. "Are you all by yourself?" He held up one finger and pointed it at her with a questioning look, hoping she would get the point.
She smiled at him then her face fell. It took him a second to realize that she was looking past him. Turning he saw a man staring at the two of them, clearly enraged.
"Not alone," Jack muttered.
The man marched over to them and began shouting at Jack in Italian. Jack put his hands up in front of him, not wanting to start a fight.
"I didn't mean any harm. I was just helping her out," Jack said.
"No!" The man said and yanked the young woman by the arm to his side.
She grimaced in pain and pulled herself out of his grasp. She barked something which Jack couldn't understand at him. What ever it was must have bothered him because he suddenly hit her across the face making her stagger backward a few feet. Whirling on the stranger Jack shoved the man away and put himself in between the man and Maria.
"I wouldn't do that to the women you are supposed to care about!" he paused and cracked a sardonic smile. "Though I don't know exactly how you two are related, maybe not at all. How should I know? Still, I'm not just going to stand here and let you do something like that."
"Move!" the man said in English.
Apparently the important words to learn when coming to a new country were 'no' and 'move,' not 'I'm sorry but I have a problem I need help with' or 'could you please explain what you are doing next to my woman.'
"I think you better stop shouting. I also think you owe Maria here an apology."
Jack saw the man clench his teeth, glaring daggers at him. Apparently Jack wasn't helping his anger any. Then suddenly, much to Jack's surprise the man pulled a gun out of his coat. Didn't they check for weapons when you got off the boat here, or on for that matter? Then again this was 1892. The man shouted again in Italian.
"Let's just relax now. This doesn't have to be a big thing," Jack said, his hands held up in front of him.
"Basta!"
The man shot him. Blinking in shock, Jack looked down at his chest. Blood was starting to show on his shirt and then his mind exploded.
He couldn't die now. He'd been waiting 23 years already and he wasn't going to quit now. He couldn't die.
Jack staggered a little, pain hitting him in waves.
This was so stupid, shot over a stupid argument over a woman. He could not die. This wasn't fair. He needed to get back to the Doctor. He couldn't die now! Not now, not here! Doctor…
Then Jack fell, his head hitting the wall, and he died.
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Air rushed into his lungs, harsh and momentarily unfamiliar. Jack opened his eyes and breathed in again. He was breathing, in and out. Breathing. He was alive.
"What the!"
Jack turned his head, just then noticing that he was lying on a wooden table of some sort, and saw a rather frightened looking young man. The man wore a uniform and it was then that Jack remembered he had been on Ellis Island.
"You're alive!" the man shouted pointing at him and backing up against the wall.
Jack couldn't respond. He had been shot through the heart. He knew it. He had felt it. He had died. This wasn't any died and was brought back by the electric paddles of life from the late 20th century. No, he had been literally dead and gone. However, it seemed not so gone as he was alive again.
"You were dead but you're alive!"
"I have noticed," Jack said.
Finally he sat up, glad to see that no one had been starting an autopsy or any such thing on him. In fact he still had most of his clothes on. He saw his bag, coat, not his RAF one unfortunately, and tie hanging up to his right. There was one window in the room in the door. It appeared he was in one of the examining rooms for the incoming immigrants. Jack jumped off the table and walked slowly over to the shaking man in the room with him.
"It's all right," he said, trying to sound soothing.
"But you were dead. Dead. I checked."
Jack smiled his most dashing and moved in closer, one hand petting the man's hair. "Well you must have been wrong because I'm certainly fine now."
"I don't think…"
"I'm alive and…" Jack opened his mouth as if to say more but hit the man in the face instead.
Jack caught the young man as he sagged and sat him down slumped over in his chair. With the man passed out Jack allowed himself a moment to pause. He knew he had died on the game station and then come back to life then. However, on the game station it was far in the future and the Daleks were all gone when he woke up. He had thought then that he had lived again because the Daleks were destroyed. Yet here he was living again after he had been shot.
Feeling himself beginning to shake Jack turned and leaned his hands on the table. Breathing in and out slowly, Jack tried to calm down. He couldn't go into shock over this now. It was a lot take in, of course, but he had to keep going. First things first, he had to get off this island. Dozens of people had seen him shot and if they saw him walking around again there would be panic.
Then again part of Jack was panicking enough for the whole island. He had come back to life and he had no idea why.
