The old codger scratched himself rather shamelessly while dozing on the floor.
He didn't like it in here. True, it was warmer than outside but he hadn't grasped the purpose of him being here.
Also, he was feeling quite peckish.
Silently he opened the book he'd placed in his lap. He tore off another page.
With tired, world-weary eyes he stared at the small window near the ceiling.
Then he stuffed the paper in his mouth, chewing languidly.
"What do you mean 'the rift is shut down'?"
Jack stared at Ianto incredulously while Gwen's mouth had dropped open.
"It's gone. No scar, no activity whatsoever. Just nothing" said Ianto, visibly shrinking under Jack's stern glare.
"But…how is that even possible?" Jack asked disbelievingly "Did you check?"
"No activity whatsoever" Ianto repeated, clutching at the precast phrase.
"And the Doctor left no message? Just nothing?" Jack snapped.
"Sorry sir?"
With a groan Jack collapsed into his chair, increasing bitterness radiating from his face.
"First the Doctor's gone and then this…" Jack mumbled before placing a hand over his chin.
Ianto looked back and forth between Jack and Gwen, evaluating the situation.
"Do you mean 'gone' as in… gone?" he ventured.
"He's not the Doctor, apparently" Gwen tried to explain before Jack could snap at Ianto.
Then her gaze travelled upwards with her eyes widening in horror;
Jack groaned while breathing out.
"Jack" Gwen said carefully before swallowing "You won't like that." She turned to face a weary Jack with his elbows resting on the table, looking askance.
"What could possibly be worse than a Doctor who doesn't know who he is and an inexhaustible source of energy suddenly ceasing to exist?" he asked grudgingly.
Gwen pointed towards the flickering monitor.
"Our prisoner's gone."
The shawl had been an unexpected treat, the Doctor had to admit, and was more than comforting. Odd or not, the old lady had been right; it was getting colder every day. The Doctor couldn't remember colder days in early December.
Lifting them from the little comfort his pocket had given the Doctor rubbed his icy hands.
Sighing quietly, and being annoyed by the cloud of breath forming in front of his face, he thrust his hands back into his pockets before strolling along the busy sidewalks.
He was flat broke again. He didn't even know how he'd managed it, he hadn't had much money but he had asserted that it was all gone now.
He buried his face up to his nose in his scarf and shivered.
And the chilly breeze was growing stronger every day now...
The Doctor looked desperately along the street.
Just somewhere where it wasn't this cold; somewhere where he could rest. Just for a few hours... just sleep...
"Hey, what are you doing here? Is there going to be an invasion? Oi, over here!"
The Doctor turned around at the strange calls in astonishment; an old man with a red woolly hat was waving at him frantically. He appeared to be rather pleased to see him, as the Doctor noted to himself; in other words: he was ridiculously joyful.
"Sorry" the Doctor tried to bring himself to a smile but failed miserably; he looked around worryingly before focussing a little uncertain on his conversation partner,
"Do I know you?"
The old man seemed to be taken aback for a moment; then his smile broadened again and he tapped his nose in a knowing way.
"Well, you don't know me the same as you don't know my granddaughter, if that's what you mean" he said in a naturally cheerful voice, "She's fine, by the way."
The Doctor nodded, either out of nervousness or desperation.
"But I hadn't expected you until Christmas" the old man went on, his aged eyes glimmering with excitement "so I thought, you better go ask the Doctor if there's anything to worry about, like an impending catastrophe, or..."
"How should I know about this?" the Doctor asked nervously.
"Well, you usually do" retorted the old man.
"I do?" the Doctor frowned.
The old man nodded exuberantly "But since you've time for a little chat, I thought it can't be that serious, can it?"
He chuckled cheerfully. The Doctor eyed him up thoughtfully.
"You know me?" he asked wonderingly after a while.
"Of course I do" replied the old man reproachfully.
"And you are...?" the Doctor went on, the look of puzzled irritation still lingering on his face; he scratched his head nervously.
"Wilfred Mott" the old man replied instantly "You called me gramps as well. Just like my dear Donna."
Donna.
The Doctor blinked. The name had provoked something at the back of his head. It wasn't a memory, not exactly. It was more like... a feeling, of some sort.
A... sparkling warmth?
The Doctor shook his head, realizing that he'd drowned out the man's prior words.
"I said 'Do you remember now?'" Wilfred repeated politely.
The Doctor stared at him with narrowing eyes; he had something about him, the Doctor felt it instantly. Disagreeing with Wilfred was like kicking a dead puppy. Or something.
He scratched his head again, nodding slightly while watching how the wrinkles around the old man's mouth disappeared. His happiness was somehow contagious.
Wilfred grinned broadly as they set off together:
"Can I buy you a cuppa?"
"He can't be gone, that's impossible" grumbled Jack. Gwen inspected the room critically.
At least Jack had calmed down; but Gwen feared that it was just the calm before the storm.
"Not if he was an alien, Jack" Gwen replied while standing on her toes "I can't even reach the window from here, I'd have to climb, it's just too far."
"He was an old, fat man" Jack went on, ignoring Gwen's contribution "He couldn't have escaped." He snapped his fingers.
"Not like this."
"You better have a look at this."
Jack grunted at Ianto's voice from the next room. Gwen backed away as a precaution.
"It's the CCTV, look at that Jack" Ianto moved aside as he caught a glimpse of the glint in Jack's eye.
Gwen leaned over Jack's shoulder, staring fixed at the screen; her brow furrowed.
"How did he... he could he even jump that high... that's just..."
"Whatever he is he owes us an explanation" Jack said, giving his colleagues a stern look.
"Ianto contact the others; they have to be on alert. We've to investigate an alien escape."
Ianto nodded and turned on his heal.
But the question he dreaded came nonetheless.
"Any news from the Doctor?"
Ianto took a deep breath and tried to keep a straight face; still he broke out in a sweat.
"We do what we can" he said stiffly.
Jack stuck out his chin and sighed while staring at the monitor, more than unsatisfied by the answer.
An escaped alien.
A Time Lord fob watch in a pawn shop.
A Doctor, who vanished without a trace.
Just nothing that added up.
In front of him the screen replayed the same scene over and over again;
A fat, old man leaping up almost vertically before disappearing through a far too narrow window.
