Jack's greatcoat had long been insufficient protection against the weather. Waiting beneath the water tower, Jack had been battered by the storm for the past ten minutes. If he had been of a mind to care he would have been annoyed, but the rain that stung his face and trickled down his neck was barely noticed.
If Ianto had seen him, he would have complained something rotten and told Jack that he should have waited in the tourist office. Then again, if Ianto could see him, there would be no need to be out in the storm, waiting for a man who would likely shoot him on sight had he the means.
It would be less than he deserved. This was all his fault, and it could easily have been avoided if he had been more attentive – less wrapped up in grief and heartbreak. If had noticed, or allowed rationality to break through the mental fog that had clung to him these past few days instead of brooding in his office or on a rooftop, then he could have seen this coming and prevented it before anyone else had to share in his suffering.
The thunder off footsteps caught his attention, but he didn't glance up. He gave no reaction, even when he was bodily shoved against the water tower, a fist connecting with his jaw, snapping his head back against the cold metal.
"I'm going to fucking kill you, Harkness!"
Jack had expected that, but not that the onslaught would be over quite so quickly. He glanced up, ignoring his blurred vision, and reached out a placating hand to the man in front of him. The hand was batted away and Jack let it drop back to his side.
"Rhys, I am so sorry."
"Sorry?" Rhys exploded, taking a step closer to Jack and looking as if he were going to hit him again. "You phone me, tell me to meet you here and then all you can say is sorry? Tell me what the fuck has happened to my wife!" The moment that the words slipped from his mouth, Rhys' whole demeanour changed. His shoulders sagged in defeat and he cradled his head in his hands. "Just tell me what's happened to Gwen."
"Come with me," Jack said as he ushered Rhys onto the invisible lift. "It's better that I explain this inside."
He pressed a button on his wrist strap and the lift descended into the Hub. Rhys didn't say anything, absently scanning the Hub for any sign of Gwen. Jack placed a hand on Rhys's shoulder when the man let out a strangled gasp, his entire body stiffening. He followed the Welshman's gaze to where Gwen lay, unmoving, on the sofa. Her eyes were closed and if he hadn't known any better he would have thought her dead. The thought jolted him out of his grief as he realised that Rhys was still thinking the worst.
"She's alive," he said as the lift ground to a halt. He stepped off, releasing Rhys so he could rush to Gwen's side. He hung back for a moment, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh as he fought to contain his warring emotions. Then he followed Rhys.
Rhys never even glanced up as Jack approached. He knelt by Gwen's head, stroking her hair lovingly. A pang of jealousy shot through Jack, and he quickly fought it down. He had no right envying what Gwen and Rhys had.
"What happened to her?" Rhys broke the tense silence, voice cracking as he glanced, only momentarily, up to Jack. "Is she going to be alright?"
Jack sighed, braced himself for the inevitable and said, "Ianto got taken by the rift three days ago."
He swallowed, forcing down a wave of grief and guilt. It would not do to encourage Rhys' sympathy when the man's wife lay in the state she was in.
"She told me," Rhys admitted. "I'm sorry. I know he meant a lot to you but what does this have to do with Gwen"
Jack nodded blankly. "I... This is my fault. I was so busy grieving that I didn't realise how much Gwen was hurting. I shut myself away and..." he took a deep breath, pushing thoughts of grief and blame to the back of his mind. "She's taken enough retcon to make her forget the last two years. When she wakes she won't remember Torchwood, or me. There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry."
He paused, running a hand through his hair and looking down at Gwen before taking a blue file from the coffee table and handing it to Rhys.
"I've arranged for you to move out of town. You've got a three bed house near Newport. All the details are in the file. You can stay at Harwood's and Gwen can join the police force, if she wants – you've got a C.V. and a glowing reference in there. As for..."
"Hang on!" Rhys cut in, looking up from the file. "You can't just reorganise our lives for us! We have rights! You can't mess people about like this! You've messed her life up and now you're doing the same to me – you strut about this city acting like you're some sort of God! You're not, Harkness, you're just a man like the rest of us and you have no right to ruin our lives!"
Rhys took a deep calming breath, noting the slump in Jack's shoulders and the way he couldn't quite meet his gaze.
"It was never my intention to ruin your lives," Jack said softly. "Now, it's all I can do to make this better. Gwen can't stay in Cardiff. There are too many memories, too many reminders of Torchwood – and with me gone, there will be no one to explain it all to her. This way you can take her away and start again – a normal life. Blame her memory loss on a car accident; tell her you moved out of Cardiff to start a family. I'm sure you can think of something." He turned away, rubbing a hand over his face as he continued. "She's a wonderful woman, Rhys. Take care of her, give her everything she deserves. I'm sorry this had to happen, I'm so sorry."
Any anger Rhys had felt towards Jack faded. Jack was clearly trying to keep check on his emotions after he had lost everyone who mattered to him. Rhys felt a twinge of sympathy as he studied Jack's back. The man had lost his friends – his partner, and Rhys knew that his own lot was trifling in comparison with that. Jack was hurting, and yet he was still doing everything he could for Gwen, even though it was breaking his heart to say goodbye. Before Rhys could offer even the tiniest comfort, Jack had turned back to him, his face a blank mask.
"She'll be fine," he assured Rhys with barely a look at Gwen. "She'll wake soon; we should get you both out of here before then."
Rhys nodded but didn't move, flicking through the folder for something to do. "What will you do? You said you were leaving?"
It was said with barely a glance up at Jack. For all their differences, for all he had disliked the Captain, Rhys hadn't the heart to leave him alone like this. Jack nodded, crouching beside the sofa to brush a kiss over Gwen's forehead and whisper something into her ear.
"I'm leaving. I've got a friend coming to collect me. Don't worry about me – I'll be fine"
He looked up at Rhys and smiled, it would have been his usual brilliant grin if not for the fact it didn't reach his eyes. Rhys nodded, deciding not to challenge the lie. "Are you coming back?"
Jack nodded, glancing around the Hub with a wistful eye. "Someone has to keep an eye on the rift. I'll be back before you know it."
Jack had watched Rhys drive away with Gwen. He had waved as they disappeared, lingering on the Plass for as long as he could bear. The people who surrounded him paid him little notice, but his gaze was drawn to every group of friends, every couple who hurried across the bay beneath umbrellas. It was with a pang that Jack watched them, knowing that a week ago he could have joined them, sharing an umbrella with Ianto as they hurried to dinner.
There was no need of an umbrella tonight. The rain was a blessing that gave reason for the wetness on his cheeks.
He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but it was long enough to become so oblivious to the outside world that the sound he had once spent years listening for went unnoticed. He was startled out of his stupor when a hand landed on his shoulder.
"Jack, what happened?"
Jack turned, taking in the concerned features of the Doctor. "They're gone..." he whispered, voice cracking. "I've lost them."
The Doctor drew Jack into an embrace, glad that for once the TARDIS and the Rift had co-operated and allowed him to land only hours after receiving Jack's stricken phone call.
"Is there anything you need to get?" he asked, pushing Jack back so he could see his response. When Jack nodded, the Doctor released him and walked alongside him to the invisible lift.
Although it took some effort, the Doctor resisted the urge to explore the Torchwood Hub. There would be time for that in the future, he assured himself, when Jack's heart had healed and he needed to come home. He lingered by the rift manipulator, watching as Jack grabbed a small rucksack from his office and crossed to a computer terminal. The Doctor followed him, peering over his shoulder.
"I'm putting the Hub in ninety percent lockdown until I return," Jack explained. "The only entrance that will open will be the pterodactyl's. I can't let anything happen to her."
The Doctor nodded, glancing up as the pterodactyl swept overhead.
"Where did you get her from – and more to the point, is she safe?" he asked, staring at Jack incredulously.
"She's safe. Only a danger to the sheep population." Jack smiled faintly. "She came through the Rift. Ianto found her and helped me catch her. She... she dropped me on him." He trailed off, concentrating on the screen. The Doctor, sensing he'd asked too much, slipped away to examine the various pieces of technology that lay scattered around. One especially complex piece of technology turned out to be a coffee machine. Propped up against it was a photograph showing Jack and the young man the Doctor recognised as Ianto; they were leaning against the railings of the bay, arms around each other's waists as they grinned for the camera.
"Gwen took that, a few weeks ago," Jack said, appearing behind the Doctor to pick the photo up. He let his fingers drift over the photograph before tucking it away in his pocket. "I'm ready."
The Doctor nodded, watching as Jack moved away towards the invisible lift. "So," he said as he climbed onto the paving slab beside Jack, jamming his hands into his pockets and forcing a smile onto his face. "Where to then, Jack? We can go to the Crystal moons of Alfrexia Minor, if you like - or Women Wept, or Barcelona! Or what about Polaria Three! There's this brilliant market there! You can buy almost anything!"
Jack shrugged lightly, "Your choice," he said, stepping off the paving slab and pressing a button on his wrist strap. "There's only one place I'd like to go, and we both know that I can't."
The Doctor sobered instantly. "You can't go back, Jack. You can't save them – you know the rules."
Jack didn't reply; instead he headed towards the TARDIS. With a sigh, the Doctor followed. He knew only too well what damage Jack could do if he went back and altered time ; he didn't want the Reapers descending on Cardiff – the poor residents already had to put up with enough. He resolved to keep an eye on Jack over the next few days. The temptation to go back and put things right, to snatch Ianto from the jaws of the Rift had to be immense, and Jack would be travelling in the one ship that could make it possible. It didn't matter that Jack knew the rules – he himself knew the rules, and yet if presented with the impossible - a chance to save Gallifrey and the Timelords - the Doctor could not say with absolute certainty that he could resist the temptation.
When he entered the TARDIS, Jack was already running a hand down the control panel and murmuring something to the TARDIS. When he approached, Jack glanced up.
"Thanks for coming, Doctor. I really appreciate this," he said, closing his eyes and leaning back against the console.
"You're always welcome here, Jack," the Doctor said. "Never mind what I've said in the past."
For a moment, Jack met his gaze and smiled the briefest and faintest of smiles. The Doctor was at a loss to identify the emotions warring behind his friend's mask, and even the smallest clues were lost when Jack turned away and picked up his bag, wordlessly leaving the console room.
The Doctor stepped up to the TARDIS controls, feeling her concern, and smiled. "He'll be fine, in time," he reassured her. "He needs somewhere quiet to adjust. Luckily, I know just the place."