Chapter 2

Gwen handed a warm mug to Jack, the sweet scent of tea leading her back into her sitting room. She took a seat next to him on the sofa, smiling over at Anwen who was lying in her baby chair.

"So Jack. Tell me this time. Where did you go?" She stared seriously into his eyes.

"This time, everywhere. I just travelled. Not really knowing where I was going, and I never carry maps." He turned to face her fully "I ran away, like a coward. I couldn't bear what I had done, who I had lost, who I had left behind. I met a nice man called Alonso. But he left me, went back to his family. That's it. I found no replacements, and nothing to fill up that horrid feeling eating away at my stomach." He took her hand and stroked it gently. "It's my past, and as I always say, it's all about the future."

Gwen didn't reply, and didn't move her hand away either. She just stared into Anwen's eyes, avoiding Jack's gaze. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat.

"Torchwood's being re-built you know. The government are re-building it again. I've seen it as well; it almost looks exactly the same. And er, I've been on a sort of recruiting hunt."

"Gwen, you shouldn't have, not after what ha-" Jack started, before she cut him off.

"You didn't expect me to sit here and do nothing, did you?" She raised an eyebrow. "It wasn't a big deal anyway. Martha called me to ask how I was getting on without Torchwood, and I said that Cardiff was just about surviving. Then she explained how she and some guy called Mickey, apparently you know him, have gotten married and are considering moving over."

Jack looked shocked. "Mickey the idiot? And lovely Miss Martha Jones?" He chuckled "Who would've guessed?" He smiled "So there's a Torchwood team again?"

Gwen nodded "And there are still vacancies if…"

"If I wanted to stay?" He smiled and Gwen yawned silently. "I'll think about it, but first we should get you to bed."

Gwen breathed deeply as she lay upon her pillow he ebony hair splayed out around her, and Anwen cuddled in a blanket close-by. Jack watched the both of them, a smile etched upon his face. He'd tucked her in, insisting he'd find somewhere to stay for the night and that she need not worry. He beamed at the both of them, wondering why he'd left in the first place. His heart had broken into a million pieces after the events of the 456 and he knew the only way to avoid those pieces was the travel out to the stars and scatter them out amongst the Universe. He should have stayed behind, to look after Gwen, and after a while to look after Anwen too.

Anwen stirred gently, as if his thoughts were awakening her, so Jack stood up, straightened his braces and backed out of the room silently. He slowly shut the door, smiling up at the picture of her, Rhys and Anwen pinned to the wall. They looked happy, they looked like a real family, one that Jack had always envied. One of those families that would have outings to the park and Rhys and Gwen would hold Anwen's hand as they crossed the road on the way to nursery. Jack shook the thoughts out of his head, poor Anwen would never know her daddy, and how wonderful and dependable he was.

- x -

Jack downed the second bottle of beer, breathing in the musty, sweat-filled air. This wasn't going to help anything, he knew it. Drinking all night and eventually staggering back to Gwen's house, feeling even worse than he did to begin with.

"Oi, mate, what the hell do you think you're staring at?" A chubby man with a stubbly beard scowled at him, his fists clenched and evidently ready to start a fight. Jack hadn't realised he was daydreaming, staring right through this man, and he rolled his eyes.

"Do you really want to pick a fight? Do you really want to do that?" Jack threatened, his eyes a lot older than the body he was inhabiting. The chubby man stared into those deep eyes, feeling the loss and grief that this man must have gone through. The blue of his eyes was piercing the outer-layer of the stubbly man's defensive body and he backed off, turning back to his drink.

"Didn't think so." Jack muttered, he grabbed his long trench coat and hastily left the cloud of drunken men behind, their blood-red eyes boring into the back of his skull.

Cardiff was a city of ghosts, every inch of space coated in the emotions of those who have passed through it. Jack could hear them, he could hear it all as he stood high above the streets. The complaints of middle-aged men, the desires of young women, the cry of a child as she is woken in the night by a vicious nightmare. Jack stared down at the bright city, the noise and lights collectively forming a jungle of naïve humans, the stench of briefcases, beer and cold chips wrapped in newspaper wafting past his nose. He'd missed this, watching the city from the top of the Millennium Centre, being able to see everything he had worked so hard to save from the grasps of the Rift.

He peered over the edge to see what was currently a rebuilding of the Hub. His home away from home. No, he shook his head. This was his home. He was Captain Jack Harkness, and he was coming back to Torchwood.