A/N: Well, that took a lot longer to finish than expected. It was kind of sitting here, on my computer, ¾ of the way finished for a week-and-a-half-ish, since I got inundated with essays for school sigh. Dratted end-of-semester work, it all gets piled on at once! So, very very sorry about the delay.

I do have good news: the next three chapters are planned out in so much detail that they're practically already written, so those should go pretty quickly! That does mean that the next three chapters are also the last three chapters, but don't worry, it's not done for good. It's just switching over to "Doctor Who," which will make more sense later.

As always, thanks so much to everyone who's been reading (and an extra thanks to those who've been reviewing!!). Enjoy!

September 22, 2008

Today, the impenetrable Torchwood Hub, was penetrated.

It had been pretty quiet today, all things considered. Really, the only thing that happened that was of any sort of interest was when Gwen finally broke down and threw this little stuffed bear she keeps on her desk (it's a gift from Rhys) at Owen to make him stop spelling things. It didn't work, but it was pretty comical. (Owen didn't win Scrabble, by the way, but he's since challenged us all to a rematch, so he's still trying to memorize the dictionary. No one will ever be able to say that Owen isn't determined when he wants to be.) It wasn't until the late afternoon, when Ianto decided to open up the info center for a little while, that things got messy.

Down in the vaults, you really can't hear anything that's going on in the more populated areas of the Hub. So, when I decided to take a quick trip upstairs to get something to drink, I had no idea that anything out of the ordinary was happening up there. I didn't see any need to be cautious, then, as I walked toward the main room. Even if I had had some sense that I needed to be careful, I doubt it would have done me any good. I still would have been breathing, and that's where the real trouble was: I walked up the stairs and into a cloud of gas. The main room was filled with it; I couldn't see a thing. I don't know how long the Hub had been in that condition by the time I got there, but it mustn't have been that long, because that gas was plenty strong enough to knock me completely unconscious. I remember that I had just enough time to get far enough past my complete and utter confusion to wonder if I was about to die, before I blacked out.

When I eventually came around, I found myself sitting on the floor of the Hub, tied up back-to-back with someone I couldn't see. Based on the fact that Tosh, Owen, and Gwen were tied up together a few feet away from me, and that Jack was tied to a chair in front of us, I figured that I was tied to Ianto. Because of the way we were all positioned, I could only see Tosh's and Jack's faces; Jack still appeared to be unconscious, but Tosh was awake, looking at Jack. I tried to catch her eye – I didn't want to make any sound, just in case whoever had done all this was in the room somewhere behind me where I couldn't see them – but my slight movements caught Ianto's attention first.

"You're awake?" Ianto asked from behind me. Apparently there was no need to worry about noise.

"Yeah, I am," I replied. "Awake, and confused. What's going on?"

"Cate!" Ianto said with surprise. "I could ask you the same thing! What are you doing up here? You should have stayed in the vaults – I doubt he would have thought to look for anyone down there!"

"Well, I didn't exactly plan on getting knocked out and tied up," I answered. "I had no idea anything was going on up here; you know how disconnected you are in the vaults! All I wanted to do was get something to drink. Then I walked into a room filled with gas, and next thing I know, I'm tied up here! And what do you mean, 'he' wouldn't have thought to look in the vaults? Who's he?"

It was Tosh who answered this time. "We don't know. At least, Ianto and I don't; I don't know about the others, they haven't woken up yet."

"All I know is that this man came into the info center acting like he wanted a postcard of Cardiff," Ianto added. "He reached into his pocket – to get his wallet, I assumed, to pay for the postcard – but pulled out this little can and sprayed whatever was in it at me. I was out before I could even quite process what had just happened."

"Then he must have worked out where the button is to open the door to the Hub – though goodness knows how he even knew about any of this – because he came in and threw a smoke bomb, filled with the same gas that was in the can," Tosh continued. "At least, we assume it was the same gas. The smoke bomb did seem to have had the same effect on us as the gas in the can did on Ianto, but it's not like we've asked the man who did this."

"He hasn't been here since the two of us woke up," Ianto explained.

"How long has that been?" I asked.

"About eight minutes for me, I'd say," Ianto answered. "Maybe five for Tosh? I couldn't see when exactly she woke up."

"Probably about five minutes, yeah," Tosh nodded. "I wasn't up for very long before I asked if anyone else was."

"Whoever this guy is, he's good," Ianto said. "Very clever. He tied the knots so that if we try to wiggle around to loosen them, they just get tighter."

"Oh. Shiny," I replied sarcastically. None of us wanted to say it, but things really didn't look good.

Over the next few minutes, the rest of the team came around, one by one. No one, not even Jack, had any clue as to what was happening – or why. But we didn't have to wait too long to find out, as just a couple of minutes after we had all finally woken up, our assailant decided to show himself.

He came out from behind the door to the info center – he must have been watching us on the CCTV behind the counter, to know just when to come out. I have to admit, for someone who managed to take out the entire Torchwood team, he didn't exactly look all that threatening; he wasn't very tall, and was pretty thin. The only thing that made him appear capable of what he had just done was the crazy look in his eye – it was visible even from across the Hub.

He looked at each of us in turn, then smiled. Walking slowly over to us, he said, "You're awake. Good! Did you enjoy your nap? I'm sure you all could have used it. You're Torchwood; you're always busy. Really, you should be thanking me."

"Who the hell are you?" Owen snapped.

"You wouldn't know. You weren't here then," the man answered calmly. "Your boss might be able to tell you, though." He turned to Jack. "Or do you not remember me? It's been a while, Jack. In fact, I'd almost understand if you'd forgotten me, if it weren't for the fact that I remember you. I'm not supposed to remember you, though, am I? No, I'm not. But I do. Now, isn't that interesting?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jack said with gritted teeth. "Untie us, now."

"Or what?" The man asked with a smile. "You'll glare at me? You're really in no position to make demands, Harkness. Besides, aren't you even the least bit curious about what's going on?"

"No," came Jack's matter-of-fact response.

The man shook his head. "I think you're lying. I think you're just dying to find out who I am, and why I've tied you all up. You just don't want to admit it. Well, lucky for you, you don't have to; I'm going to tell you anyway."

"Oh, goody," Owen muttered under his breath.

I don't think he'd meant for the man to hear him (though with Owen, you never can be sure), but whatever Owen's intentions, the man did hear him. Turning to face Owen, he said, "You know, I wasn't planning on killing you lot. But if you're going to insist upon being so rude, I may make an exception for you, just to be rid of the annoyance."

Not one to be shut down so easily, Owen opened his mouth to make, I'm sure, some sort of sarcastic reply. Hoping to avoid any unnecessary killings, though, I decided to cut him off before he could say anything. "If you don't mind my asking," I started diplomatically (like I said, I wanted to avoid unnecessary killings), "if you don't plan on killing us, then, er… why are we tied up?"

"A logical question," the man answered. "You're all tied up because I couldn't risk you trying to stop me from doing what I came here to do."

"Which is?" Jack asked.

"Aha! See, I told you that you were curious!" The man chuckled. "Well, let me explain." He cleared his throat and stood up a bit straighter, as if preparing to make a speech. "Eleven years, three months, and twelve days ago, my wife died. Up until four years, seven months, and five days ago, I believed she was killed in a tragic hit-and-run accident. I missed her, so, so much, but I'd started moving on with my life and had come to terms with the fact that sometimes, tragedies happen. They can't be avoided. They strike randomly and without warning, and all you can do is pick yourself up and continue living – that's what the person who died would have wanted for you.

"But, like I said, four years, seven months, and five days ago, something changed. I was walking down the street that night, just trying to get home, when I saw what looked like two people having a brawl in the road ahead of me. I was going to call the police when one of the fighters got caught in the light from a street lamp. That was when I realized that it wasn't a fight I was seeing, but an attack – an attack on some poor fellow by a hideous, man-eating thing. It was built like a man, but larger, with wrinkled brown skin.

"At first, I was too shocked and confused to do anything. But not too long after first seeing the creature for what it was, I started to remember. The memories started off unclear, jumbled, foggy; but, they got clearer in time. I could see, in my mind, my wife getting attacked by one of those creatures, on a night not too different to that one. I remembered trying to fight it off, but being tossed aside like I weighed nothing. Then I remembered a black SUV pulling up, that said 'Torchwood' on the side. I remembered a woman jumping out of the car with what looked like a can of mace, and spraying it at the creature. She was followed by two men – one of them tackled the creature and handcuffed it, while the other saw to my wife." The man turned to Jack. "You, Harkness, were the man doing the tackling. I remembered you as clear as day."

"What can I say? I'm a memorable kind of guy," Jack replied, in typical Jack-fashion.

The man ignored Jack's comment – which was probably good, for Jack's sake – to continue with his story. "As if my memory summoned you, suddenly a black SUV with 'Torchwood' on the side entered the street. I stayed just long enough to see you, Harkness, get out of the SUV – looking exactly the same as I remembered you. Then I ran home.

"I tried to ignore the memories, but over the next couple of weeks, they became more and more insistent. I didn't want to believe them, but somehow, I knew they were right. My wife wasn't hit by a car, she was killed by some terrible monster – and you Torchwood lot were entirely unable to save her."

"We tried," Jack said. "We always try. But sometimes, we just get there too late. If we could have saved your wife, believe me, we would have."

"But that's just it, isn't it?" The man asked, a bit of the madness from earlier creeping back into his voice. "All you would have needed to do was be a little bit earlier, and my wife would have survived."

"We can't control that," Jack said. "We leave as soon as we find out about a Weevil sighting – but we can't do anything until we know about it."

"You could have driven a little faster," the man said, his voice starting to shake. I could tell he was starting to lose his grip on sanity, even more so than before. "You could have gotten out of the car quicker. You, Harkness, could have been more speedy in getting that thing away from my wife. Seconds, Harkness. That's all my wife might have needed. Seconds. And you could have saved seconds."

"I'm sorry," Jack said. He sounded like he genuinely meant it.

"That won't bring my wife back," the man responded. "Nothing will. But I at least want to see justice served." The man took a couple of steps toward Jack. "You and your crew let my wife die, while I stood there and watched. Now it's your turn, Harkness."

Ianto let out a quiet, "No!" I don't think he wanted the man to hear him, but he did.

"Yes," he replied. "I think this is what you do, Torchwood. Sure, you save lives on a grand scale, but do you ever think about the consequences? Do you know what you put people through? I don't think you understand." There were tears in the man's eyes now, and his hands were shaking. He was definitely reaching his breaking point. "So, I'm going to show you. I'm going to force you to see what it's like to watch someone you care about die while you sit there, unable to do a thing. That way, maybe you'll remember that as you go to 'save' people from now on. Maybe no one else will end up like me."

What happened next, happened so fast that I doubt any of us could have stopped it even if we weren't tied up. The man pulled out a gun (which had been very well-concealed up until then) and shot Jack. Then, he shot himself. Both men were dead.

The five of us left sat in silence for a moment, trying to process the events of the last few seconds. It was Gwen who finally broke the silence. "Oh, my God." She paused. "How… How did he even manage all this? It's not like we go about advertising our location, is it? How did he find us?"

"And why didn't the RetCon work?" Owen added.

"Sometimes, if you really want to, you can override the effects of the RetCon," Tosh answered. "It's extremely rare, but possible, especially with a memory as tragic as that man's. It's hard to forget something like that, even with the help of RetCon. How he found us, though… I have no idea."

Just then, Jack came back to life with a gasp. He looked over at the five us tied up on the floor. "You guys alright?" (Shouldn't we be asking him that?) We all nodded.

As if responding to my thought, Ianto asked, "What about you?"

Jack chuckled. "Me? Oh, I'm fine. Almost starting to get used to this," he added, with a not-entirely-genuine-looking smile. He sighed. "Ok, first things first. Getting untied." He looked around the room, somewhat puzzled. "Huh. This could get… complicated."

"Well, I've got all manner of sharp objects down by the operating table," Owen supplied. "Cutting the rope will be no problem, if anyone can manage to get to the equipment."

"It's possible that Cate and I might be able to coordinate ourselves enough to get down there," Ianto said. "I've seen it done on television, anyway, two people who are tied like this working together to get up and get untied. I can't make any guarantees, but it… might work," he finished somewhat uncertainly.

I was willing to give it a go, and with a nod from Jack, off Ianto and I went. It wasn't easy, but somehow the two of us did manage to stand up and walk (if you can call it walking; it was more like shimmying or shuffling) down to the infirmary. Grabbing a sharp instrument with which to cut the rope proved to be yet another challenge, and actually cutting it proved to be a hazard to the continuing attachment of our hands to our arms. However, after what felt like ages of extremely meticulous scalpel-work from Ianto (and a lot of praying from me), the rope fell to the ground, leaving the two of us intact.

"We're free!" I exclaimed as a beaming Ianto gave me a quick hug. I grabbed another sharp-looking object from the operating table, and Ianto and I ran back up the others to get them out of their confines.

Once we were all able to move around again, Owen voiced the question we were all wondering. "Jack, what the hell was that all about?"

Jack sighed. "It's hard to lose someone that you love," he started. "Everyone struggles with it, but some people… Some people really just can't take it, in the end. It drives them crazy." He turned to look at the body of the man who'd attacked us. "All I can figure is that that's what happened to this poor man. Especially when he remembered exactly what it was that killed his wife. Such a strange way to lose someone…" he trailed off.

"He wouldn't even be able to talk to anyone about it," Gwen said. "How could he? Everyone would think he was completely mad if he said that some alien creature killed his wife. He had to keep it all inside." Gwen shook her head. "No wonder it destroyed him." Jack nodded, while the rest of us just looked at the ground.

Jack took a deep breath. "Alright. Time to clean up. Owen, if you could take care of the body, I'll deal with the cover story."

With that, we all split up and went about our various businesses. It still amazes me how… I'm not even sure what the right word for Torchwood is. Resilient? Probably. Unshakeable? Mostly, yeah. Unfeeling? I don't know. I don't think so. They're all such lovely people, and they've been nothing but kind and caring towards me – they didn't have to be, either; they could have treated me like I was just someone they were forced to deal with, after all. But they can bounce back from something like this so quickly! Some man, who'd been driven insane by the death of his wife, had just tied us all up, killed Jack, and killed himself, and yet just a few minutes after everything had been settled, they all went back to work as usual. Maybe that's because, in a way, this is work as usual at Torchwood. Or, maybe they were just doing a brilliant job of keeping their discomfort hidden – maybe, because I didn't mention my discomfort to any of them, they're thinking the same thing about me right now. I really don't know. All that I do know is that Gwen was right, way back in the beginning of the first series: working for Torchwood really is "one hell of a job."