Italics Flashbacks or thoughts. can also be normal meaning of emphasis etc.
URGENT NOTICE-PLEASE READ!:
I DONT THINK THIS CHAPTER FLOWS AS WELL WITH THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS, SO WHEN YOU START READING THIS CHAPTER, PLEASE TELL ME IMMEDIATLY IF YOU THINK I SHOULD TAKE IT DOWN AND RE-WRITE IT TO FIT IN TO THE PREVIOUS STYLE. IT JUST FEELS WRONG READING ALL THE WAY THOUGH IT, BUT I DONT WANT TO TAKE IT DOWN IF OTHER PEOPLE ENJOY THIS.
EVEN IF YOUR READING THIS RANDOMLY, PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THE ABOVE. If you were gripped by one style and kept loosing concentration on the other, please tell me! Shall I delete this (both parts)?
A/N: SO sorry for extremely late update –bangs head against door-
I was assaulted by many other plot bunnies. I hope this chapter will satisfy you, as I haven't written this stuff in a while! Sorry! Enjoy.
Ps. Sorry for all O.O.C.ness and grammar/spelling mistakes! I haven't managed to watch a Torchwood episode for ages T.T I can't wait for the 2nd season!
PPs. Any thoughts for improvement will be gladly appreciated. If you do spot mistakes, please message me super quick then I can correct them ;)
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QuickRecap:
After woken from a strange and rather disturbing dream, Jack finds himself chained down to the autopsy table in the hub with his team gathered around him.
'Jack!' Gwen breathed, relieved. A small smile broke out across her face.
'What happened?' Jack asks, confused.
Gwen softly put her hand on his shoulder as her soft, calming husky voice traveled through the Hub.
'You were bitten by a werewolf on our trip to Scotland, remember?'
Chapter 4-Thoughts of the Truth
'No! What are you talking about?' he answered breathlessly, pulling an even more bewildered expression as her words started to sink in.
'Jack, do you know the date?' Gwen said softy, testing how much he could remember.
Jack paused then…'How the hell am I supposed to know that?'
Gwen twitched and mentally noted never to wake Jack up in the mornings, if he ever slept that is. But now he was awake, and nothing could stop the relief flooding through her systems. She put a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder, and squeezed it gently. She wasn't sure whether it was a reassuring gesture or just a test to prove to herself that Jack was still there.
'What's the last thing you remember?'
Jack was too lost in his thoughts to reply he hastily tried to unscramble everything in his head. I was bitten by a werewolf? Maybe that's why I had that gory dream. That's not good, but I haven't done any damage yet, have I? So me …eating them was a dream? That was all it was…
Jack gazed back at Gwen, and he couldn't help but let a faint hint of relief connect him to the world as he realized Gwen had placed a small, affectionate hand on his shoulder.
He winced slightly as another shot of pain sliced through his body, but thankfully it wasn't as strong as before. At least he was safe now for the moment, with his team there in his home. His body relaxed somewhat, greatful that they were there for him.
The immortal suddenly realized Gwen was still waiting for his answer, so he hurriedly thought back through his hazy mind to the last thing he remembered. The first thing that came into his head was the dead bodies of the Torchwood team in the gore-covered Hub. His body went cold and his muscles started to tense. He swiftly moved past that blood-filled memory, to before that event. He moved further to when he arrived back in Torchwood.
He had come back from the Master's grip in the 'The year that never was' to Torchwood, and went back to his team that were so unaware of what could have befallen them in this year. Well, at least they had a better deaths then him….
He shook his head mentally, knowing he shouldn't think like that. His team had helped defend the Earth with their lives. They didn't deserve pain filled deaths, unlike himself. His blood stirred. He sometimes wondered why the Doctor didn't just let him have his own way with the bloody Master (but the blood was always belonged to me, 'the freak', didn't it?).
He shook inwardly, and shoved back the dark and torturous memories forcing their way to the front of his mind; half wishing he could use retcon. But Jack wasn't ignorant. He knew he couldn't stand another void in his memory, especially where his answer about his life had been answered. Now the Doctor had flown and almost all of his questions had been answered, he only had one important thing left - His team, and he was determined to enjoy every last second he had with them.
Jack shuddered again as pain raked through him once more. He forcefully tried to relax his muscles that time.
Supirsingly, his team had seemed to miss him that week (a long year to Jack) and Jack wondered whether they had missed him quite as much as he had missed them. He was secretly glad he had someone, something he could protect and cherish, at least for a while.
Jack closed his eyes. Focus. Ok. So he had arrived back to his team at Torchwood 3. That's right – A week after, when everything had settled back to normal, he went to investigate strange goings-on in Scotland with his team. He frowned and focused, but he could only grasp snippets of memory; a blurry view of a large house, snatches of colour, running along corridors, and the moon had been round and full, as he remembered staring at it; its lonely beauty captured in the velvet darkness…pain searing through his body. Then there was nothing.
His eyes opened again. If that was the memory werewolf attack, why couldn't he remember it fully? Had the attack really been that bad?
And after the snippets of memory had been, he must have fallen into the dream while he was presumably unconscious from the attack. In the dreamscape he had found himself somehow standing in the Hub, thinking about the 21st century. Then there had been a bright light with that beautiful singing, a timeless, haunting song; then Gwen had kissed him, and he found a strange power, and he had …killed them - massacred them. He had murdered Yan and Tosh and Owen. Slaughtered her - his Gwen who believed in him, helped him, and was now staring comfortingly down at him; and he had not even tried to stop himself from ripping her up with relish - eating and savoring her like a wild, vicious beast. At that moment, he couldn't find the courage to look back into Gwen's trusting eyes. He angrily pushed by that memory out of his mind, not trying to stop the shame that splayed in his shattered heart. He made his way to the last memory.
It was when he had been in the gore-stained Hub, and then he woke up here - in his Torchwood, clean and with each one of his team alive and kicking, although he wasn't too happy about the strange pain in his body or being strapped to a table, for all the BAD reasons. He defiantly knew he preferred the latter to be real, and thankfully, it looked like it was, which meant he had just been dreaming.
He let out a soft sight of relief. All a dream…. His eyes flickered shut to catch a moment of a peaceful abyss, before once again opening to face the world.
'I…can't remember what happened. But I remember arriving back here before going to Scotland,' he answered for once. He didn't mention any dream. Sometimes it was necessary to keep secrets. Ok, so he hadn't technically lied about that, he just hadn't told them. It didn't matter if they didn't know what it was entirely about, did it?
The immortal didn't understand the dream himself. Not because of what happened in it, but because it had never happened. Jack never dreamt like most people. Nowadays, after what had happened on the Game Station, all he saw when he slept was his bloody memories - literally. So how could he have dreamt something that never happened? On top of that, even if the dream was caused by the werewolf, some of the dream hadn't even been connected to the wolf, so what was the golden light about? What had happened to him to make his have these… dreams? Well, more like nightmares.
Gwen brought Jack back from his thoughts as she frowned, worried, and Jack, with a sinking feeling right to the floor, could tell she didn't believe him one bit. Well, at least one person on my team is inquisitive, although with all the wrong ideas he thought – trying to find out about me. Her deep brown eyes somehow pierced Jack's - Those brown eyes in his dream that stared up at him as they kissed in the golden light. Brown – the colour of dried blood...
…he was tearing into that oh-so-sweet, flawless skin. Beautiful red liquid splattered everywhere along with the sound of the distant screams… He could feel the warm blood rushing down his throat. It was soothing, and deliciously rich.
His breath hitched painfully and he inwardly cursed the savage pleasure he felt. He averted his gaze quickly to the roof as his eyes stung with something he had not felt in a while - unshed tears. He reminded himself it was only a dream. I'm not that weak, not this weak. I can't show these faults in front of my team, I'm their leader. I always have to be strong. It wasn't just the physical pain that made his body ache. All these memories, they were just too much for him. Even the ones that weren't real.
Currently, he couldn't bare to look into the relieved and believing eyes of his group. That dream was fresh in his mind and kept on repeating like a mantra. How he killed them, ripped them apart and feasted on them like it was the most normal thing in the world. But the worst part of it was the pleasure he had felt. It was savage, hungry, the very basic emotions of a bloodthirsty animal. He felt sick with himself. He was a 51st century guy, 51st century. Maybe that's where the savageness came from though. It was just a dream, but he couldn't even stop himself. Maybe the Doctor is right. I AM wrong.
Disgust filled him, fueled by his ever-lasting ribbon of pain. Is that what I am going to become, or am I already at that stage?
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Gwen glanced at the rest of the team, who were oddly silent while they sighed in relief; it almost seemed they were more panicked than Jack about the incident.
He seemed to have calmed down for the moment, or at least hidden his panic. She was quite surprised at his panicked reaction when he woke up – Jack was always calm and strong. But then again, he had been ripped open by a werewolf….she shuddered and closed her eyes momentarily at the memory. Not even Jack could be so emotionless about that.
It seemed Owen, Tosh, and even Ianto believed Jack's answer. She sighed and looked back at him. He was looking at anything but her and the rest of the team, and her cop senses screamed at her. They knew when they saw a guilty person.
But what's he guilty about? He saved us from the werewolf and almost killed himself in the process. He can't be guilty about that, can he? It must be something after that attack. What did he see when he was unconscious that make him act like this? It did make an understandable logic. They all saw Jack had been had having nightmares after he had been unconscious since the attack. They guessed it was the werewolf bite infecting him. It hadn't been much; just the odd groan or mutter or gasp, although he had lashed out once or twice dangerously. It scared her to see him like that, so out-of-control. She sometimes wondered whether he realized his strength. He could have hurt himself or someone else. Why did you think he was handcuffed to the autopsy table?
'How did I get bitten?' Jack promptly snapped her out of her thoughts.
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Owen had a quip on the tip of his tongue (such as 'How d'ya think?') but wisely decided to keep quiet, as he remembered the awful sight of Jack getting ripped into. Jack had been such an idiot hurting himself to defend them. Owen knew he should have been able to protect the team himself, he was 2nd in charge. He hadn't even been able to do that. Owen turned back to the team and resumed hitting the keyboard keys with unneeded force as he typed in Jack's medical condition so far onto the computer.
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Nobody answered Jack's question. Jack felt awkward in the stony silence, only broken by the odd caws of Myfanwy and the typing of Owen's keyboard. He shifted on the smooth, metal table again, wishing they would remove the metal cuffs strapping him helplessly down. It wasn't exactly a pleasant sensation, seeing as he has spent a none-existent year chained up with the alike of them, but unfortunately he knew that if the 'werewolf' attack had changed him, it would not be good. Especially as what happened in his dream could easily happen here in real life.
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Jack finally got his question answered after a 7 smothering seconds. Gwen took few deep breaths then started reciting carefully what had happened. Even if he was immortal, he still had feelings, no matter what crap Owen had said once. Actually, she was rather surprised (and admittedly relieved) that he hadn't said a word yet. Gwen had learnt several things after a few weeks of working at Torchwood. One of them: Owen tended to say the wrong things to reassure injured people.
She glanced over to him to be met with the back of his grey t-shirt as he typed Jack's medical information into his computer. She looked back down to Jack, who was looking rather uncomfortable strapped down (surprising, as she remembered hearing some of his suggesting innuendos), but he settled down quickly and she started.
'A 2 weeks ago, just after you came back to Torchwood after going missing,' without even TELLING us where you had bloody been, she growled mentally… although, if someone could read her thoughts, they might just catch a glimpse of her badly hidden worry and fear. She sent a look at Jack, silently reprimanding his ways.
Jack finally managed to look back at her without thinking of the dream. He could easily tell she still held some resentment against his secretive ways - especially not telling them where he had been for a 'week'; they were content, although angry when he came back, and they thankfully fell back into the old way of their teamwork after an a little more than an innuendo as an explanation.
That's why Jack wasn't going to risk messing up the timeline once more by telling them about the year that never was. His decicion was for their safety. He had no idea how much damage it could cause-maybe major, maybe none. But last time he has done something like that… well let's just say things didn't go as planned – and that time he had a Chula war ship and a fully working time watch-com. He was sure he didn't have them now. (Not since the Doctor had ruined his watch…)
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Gwen remembered how she had found the week when he'd been away was hell without anyone to lead the team, especially as the damage to the rift had increased because of the Abbadon. She remembered how glad she was when Jack came back - she didn't think she could have stood a day more of being the leader. It was harder and exhausting then it looked. Gwen blinked back to the present. She scolded herself for letting her thoughts wander off, (a/n like the author!) and continued with her recital.
'Before we knew it, we were being chased by a werewolf. You had wandered off somewhere and we couldn't contact you,' A hint of frustration in her voice. Jack interrupted then.
'Were any of you hurt?' Gwen shook her head and continued with the story, smiling slightly at his concern for them.
'At the last moment, when we were cornered, and are bullets had ran out, it charged at us. You suddenly jumped out from another corridor in front of it. You saved us, but it didn't stop and it had its jaws open and it went right at you and it ...' She trailed off and paled considerably.
Jack winced slightly, suddenly feeling glad he couldn't remember. Getting ripped up wasn't his idea of a great day out. Maybe that's why can't I remember what happened. If that's the case, I only have short-term memory loss. I should get the memory back soon enough. Though at this point in time I'm not sure I want it.
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next part of chap--
