Title: Rubbish
Author: CosmicalMadison
Summary: Post-Adrift. Gwen thinks more can be done to help the people on Flat Holm.
Rating: K
Pairing(s): Jack/Gwen
Genre: Tragedy, angst
Author's Note: I'm such a hypocrite. I write in my profile about how I don't like Gwack, and then I write this. Sigh. Honestly, it wasn't going to be Gwack to start with, but then the last line basically wrote itself and was too good not to keep, so it was cinched. Anyway, hope you like it. This is also my first time writing Gwen, so please let me know if I've got her in character or not. Concrit is appreciated.


Three days after reuniting Nikki and Jonah, Gwen found herself back on Flat Holm. Despite how horrified she was by the place, the compassion and pity she felt for the people here wouldn't let her stay away. She felt that she had to be near them, helping however she could. There had to be a way she could make life even a little better for the residents here.

After arriving, Gwen had asked Helen what she could do, and the head nurse had sent her to Jonah's room to keep him company during his good phase.

Now, she sat with the man trying to think of a way to end the awkward silence between them and studiously looking everywhere but at his ruined face.

Finally, Jonah asked, "How's my mum?"

"Fine!" Gwen answered quickly, gratefully latching onto the topic. "Fine. I'm sure she'll come to see you again soon. She just needs some time for everything to sink in." Jonah nodded wordlessly, and Gwen prattled on. "She's still running Searchlights. Not everyone missing in Cardiff ends up here."

Jonah smiled. "That's my mum, always trying to help people. She's-" He stopped suddenly, his face paling.

"Jonah, what is it? What's wrong?"

The man groaned. "I'm sorry, Gwen. It's time." His mouth worked for a few moments before he managed to gasp out, "You'll probably want to leave now."

"Jonah-" She reached for him, but there was nothing to be done. The man's mouth opened wide, and out came that terrible scream. Gwen clapped her hands over her ears and began to back out of the room.

When she reached the hall, she closed the door and leaned against it, shivering as tears ran down her cheeks. Twenty hours, she thought numbly. Twenty hours of screaming. She couldn't begin to imagine the things he must have seen to make him this way.

"Hey." Gwen started at the sudden soft voice and accompanying hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Jack, his face solemn. He held out a hand and said, "Come with me."

Gwen wiped her eyes and nodded before taking it. Jack led her out of the building and up to the hillside where they had spoken on her first visit to the island.

When they were seated, the Captain asked, "Gwen, why did you come back here?"

"I can't stay away," she said, frustration bleeding through the words. "I want to help these people, Jack."

He shook his head. "There really isn't anything you can do. The doctors and nurses here are already doing all they can." His voice softened. "You don't need to be here if it's so hard for you."

"But that's just it, Jack!" Gwen cried, jumping to her feet and beginning to pace. "There has to be more. We have all this bloody amazing technology, machines that let us see the past and wrist straps that can do whatever you like, and we can't find something to make these poor people better?"

Jack sighed and rose. "Come here," he commanded gently. Gwen stopped in front of him, wide-eyed and upset. The Captain wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. "You care too much for your own good," he murmured into her hair.

The woman stiffened in his arms, then pushed him away. "Well, someone has to," she said, eyes flashing.

"Gwen, listen to me!" Jack took her face in his hands and forced her to meet his eyes. "I've been working on this for eight years, since I took over Torchwood Three. It's not for lack of trying that I haven't been able to fix them. I'm doing the best I can."

"The best you can is rubbish," Gwen said bitterly, her brown eyes locked with his. Effortlessly, she broke from his grip and turned away.

Jack watched her stalk toward the boat landing and said softly, "I know."

I'm rubbish with the returnees and rubbish when it comes to you.