A/N:

Just a quick point: by and large, if I haven't re-written it, it happened just exactly the way RTD and company presented it to us in CoE.

And again, thank you SO much for all the reviews, for all the alerts/faves. They really, really make my day.

Sorry this one didn't get up sooner, yesterday was a bit of a day ;-)

Chapter Fourteen:
Day Two, Part Three

"Drop the question of what tomorrow may bring,
and count as profit every day that fate allows you."

Horace

A tired looking woman glanced up when she realized there was someone standing in front of the reception desk and the someone wasn't going away. Like most people at the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital—most of the people around the world—she was still trying to digest the meaning of the new message:

We are coming back.

She blinked to clear her thoughts and tried to smile, but it was a futile effort. "Can I help you?" she asked anyway of the curvy dark skinned woman wearing snug blue jeans and brown leather coat.

"I hope so. Look…I…" Martha hesitated. She wanted to muster up some words of courage, of hope, like she had when she'd travelled the world over, during the year that never happened, not for most people away. She wanted to tell this woman, to tell the whole world, that it would be all right, that everything possible was being done to fix this and that they would fix it. But the she didn't believe that herself. "I'm sorry. I know…that is… I'm looking for Bobby Chase—Dr Robert Chase?" she amended. "He's here visiting—"

"I might be able to help you," said another woman, cutting her off, though it didn't appear to be an intentional act of rudeness. She had dark hair and dark circles under her eyes. She was probably a well dressed woman most days, but not today. Today she just looked tired. It was a look Martha knew too well. Everywhere she went it was the same, people were mentally and emotionally tapped out.

"I'm Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine for Princeton Plainsboro," the woman extended her hand.

"Martha Jones Milligan," she accepted. "Dr Martha Jones Milligan." Sometimes people received her better when she mentioned that she was a doctor.

"And you are…?"

"I'm not here officially," she explained. "But I am with UNIT, and if there's anything I can do to help…"

"You could tell us what's going on," Cuddy suggested hopefully, steering the woman away from reception. She didn't look old enough to be much of a doctor or anyone of any special importance with the United Intelligence Taskforce, either—whoever they were. She still didn't know, not with any certainty at any rate. She'd dealt with them after the Atmos incident. They hadn't been much help then. They weren't much help now.

"I wish I could tell you what's going on, I really do, but the truth is we don't know," Martha said in a tone the other seemed to believe. The real truth was that she didn't know, she'd been shut out. That's why she needed to talk to Jack, why needed to see Bobby. "But I promise you, as soon as I know anything, I'll tell you."

Cuddy gave over a wan smile. She'd been heard the same line by everyone she'd talked to in the last twenty four hours, from the CDC all the way up to the World Health Organization. "Chase is with Dr House and his team… I'll show you the way," she offered, her tone nothing but kind.

"Thanks. Do you have kids?" she asked after a moment.

Cuddy gave her a startled look…then she smiled. Under the circumstances, it wasn't an unusual question. "A little girl. Not even two."

Martha just nodded. Only school aged children seemed to have been affected. But how could she express to one person how happy she was that her life wasn't being torn apart when so many other people's lives were? Lisa Cuddy must have nieces, nephews, neighbours, friends... no one had been left untouched by the events of the past thirty six hours.

"Do you? Have children?" Cuddy returned the question.

She shook her head. "Too busy…my husband wants them, but my life…my life isn't really…no, no kids. Maybe someday," she flashed another forced smile.

Her last conversation with Tom had ended in a huge fight over him wanting her to move back to London so they could be together, start thinking about a family. 'It's like being married to a stranger, Martha! You give me what, every other weekend? Unless there's some crisis you can't tear yourself away from!'… 'What's the point of saving the world if you don't have a life of your own to come home to when it's all done?'… They hadn't spoken since.

She and Dr Cuddy got as far as the elevator when when she noticed a familiar tall, lanky blond haired man leaning up against a wall near the stairwell, his back to them, talking on his mobile.

Cuddy saw him too and motioned towards him. "Looks like we found him," she managed another smile. Smiles were becoming exceedingly difficult to come by.

"Thank you, Dr Cuddy," Martha said to her, before heading over; she gave the older woman a brief glance over her shoulder, silently promising that she would figure this out, she would fix it. If she could travel the whole world to stop the Master, with little more than a creative story, a single word, than she could stop this too.

Bobby was just hanging up his phone when she got close enough to announce herself. "Surprise…" her grin faded the instant he turned and faced her. He looked like he'd just been gutted. "Bobby, what's wrong?"

"Martha…I…" his brows knit together. "What are you doing here?"

"Long story. Was that Jack? I've been trying to reach him for the last half an hour…whatis it, what's wrong?" she asked again. He'd gone ashen at the mention of the Captain's name.

"That was Abby. Something happened in Cardiff. I—it's Jack. Ianto. The Hub—I have to tell Wen—"

"Bobby!" Martha grabbed him by the sleeve, refusing to let him go until he'd explained himself in a way that made some sense. "What happened in Cardiff? Is Jack all right?"

"I don't know," he ran his hands through his hair. "There was an explosion in Cardiff Bay, right…right where the Hub…where it used to be."

Her hands went to her mouth, it couldn't be a coincidence. The way she was being kept out of everything… "Oh God, no. No. Please, tell me they got out all right. Tell me they're all right…"

"I don't know. Mickey was at Ianto's sister's. He's gone to see if there's…" he shook his head, unable to complete the thought. "I need to find Wen."

"I'm coming with you."

…………………………………………………………..

Nerys gaped as the scene before her as they approached the pier. Smoke. Emergency vehicles. Police tape. Black clad soldiers…big guns. Debris. Rubble. Fire. She felt sick to her stomach. No one could have survived that.

Mickey steadied her with a hand to her elbow; he said he didn't want to get too close, not until he knew what had happened. They'd gotten a call as they were pulling out of her Mam's driveway. She didn't understand it—she understood the words, just not what it all meant. It was like the whole world had gone mad.

The call was Gwen's friend, Andy, saying he was probably making a career ending mistake, but something was wrong, really wrong, people were saying that Gwen, Jack, Ianto…Sara…even Mickey, that they were responsible for the bomb. Andy couldn't reach anyone else, he didn't know if they were alive or dead. He'd only seen Gwen, briefly, as she shot the tires out of the van he'd been in some woman from the anti-terrorist unit.

But Gwen wasn't a terrorist, Andy knew that. He knew that Jack wasn't either, or Ianto, or Sara, or any of them… although sometimes he wondered about that girl Abby. She frightened him.

"I know you lot get up to some strange doings, but you wouldn't blow up the quay…would you?"

Armed with that information, Mickey was being especially careful. He'd disabled the GPS in his jeep and made her turn off her mobile phone; he turned off his. He'd parked the jeep some ways away from the pier. Nerys was glad he'd made her wear the hiking boots.

She couldn't help the gut-wrenching nausea that continued washed over her anew when the wind coming in off the bay brought with it the stench of burning debris. She almost wished she'd stayed in the jeep like he wanted her too, but she hadn't come all this way to sit on the sidelines and guard his laptop. Instead she was walking with him, with it slung over her shoulder.

"My God," she finally found words to express some small measure horror she felt. How many times had she and Remy met Ianto for lunch right…right there… only there wasn't anything there anymore, just burning wood and charred metal. "What happened here?"

Mickey pulled something out of his bag.

"What is that?" she asked of the weird device; she'd never seen anything like it before.

"I'm looking for anything hinky," he answered her, unaware that he'd picked up on Abby's favourite word to describe things gone awry.

"What do you mean, 'hinky'?"

"Alien energy signatures, Rift activity…anything."

"And?"

He looked frustrated. "Nothing. It was a bomb, just like they said on the news."

"So…it really was terrorists?"

"I dunno. Hang on—here, hold this," he handed over the energy detector and pulled something much smaller out of the big black satchel he always carried over his shoulder.

He slipped an ear bud into his left ear; there wasn't a wire connecting it to the black ipod sized device he was holding. She didn't know what it was, but like the energy detector, it wasn't like anything she'd ever seen. Other than introducing her to the pterodactyl, Ianto had made a point to shelter her from his job, to not involve her in anything or show her anything, not to even talk about anything, except to tell her that everything was fine, she shouldn't worry about aliens, she should just live her life as normally as possible. She suspected that that more than anything was why he didn't 'approve' of her dating one of his co-workers.

But Mickey was kind. Funny. He was sweet. Honest. Intelligent (always a bonus). She liked him. And he adored Remy. As far as she could tell, it was mutual all the way around, although they'd only been going out for a couple of months.

She had tried to see other blokes. Several of her friends had set her up on blind dates, but somehow after being around Ianto and Jack, watching them, the way they were with each other, especially when they didn't think anyone was paying them any mind… "So what is that thing?" she asked Mickey, not wanting to think about her brother and his husband, about them being down there, buried under all that mess.

"I want to hear what they're saying," he explained, nodding towards the rescue workers, the black clad anti-terrorist troops who appeared to be sifting through the debris.

"So that's what, then, some sort of alien listening device?" she asked flippantly.

"Something like that, yeah," he answered, having seemed to have missed her tone. "They're looking for survivors. So far they haven't found anything, though."

"Do you really think…?" was there anyone left to find? Ianto… Jack… Sara… Andy had only seen Gwen. What if the others…

Mickey didn't miss her tone that time. Gingerly, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Shhhh," he soothed. "We don't know who was here when it happened, Ner. For all we know, no one was even in the Hub. Come on," he tugged her further away from the scene. He didn't want anyone noticing them—and he didn't think she could handle being so close any longer.

Nerys followed behind him for a few moments, occasionally looking back over her shoulder, trying to imagine how anyone could have survived the explosion that had created all that wreckage. "What are we supposed to do?" she asked at length.

"We wait," he said, looking around for a spot they could use to hunker down.

"For what?"

"For Jack."

"I don't understand."

He turned to face her again. "Look, one of two things is going to happen. Either he wasn't in there and he heard about it, he's on his way, or he was in there."

"But…if he was in there when…" she swallowed back the words. If he was inside when the bomb went off, he was dead.

"He's not dead. Trust me. Now come on."

………………………………………………………

Ianto found a vantage point that gave him a decent view of the blast site while still offering adequate cover and settled in to wait. Eventually he'd see Mickey or Mickey would find him—or the soldiers would find Jack. Either way, waiting was the only thing he could do.

The eastern sky began to lighten…the sun was coming up.

It reminded him of the sunrise he and Jack had shared on the top of the Millennium Centre the day after Henry… he closed his eyes, rubbing his fingers across his partner's ring on his hand.

I want to take walks with you in the park and eat breakfast in bed with you…I want to feed you pineapple off of every inch of my body… the memory of Jack's words brought a fresh stab of pain, a fresh twisting in his gut.

They'd taken those walks in the park, taken Jason to a rugby match, a football game. Jack had fed him pineapple… his body made the most beautiful plate Ianto had ever seen…he found himself smiling his tears. He wiped his face dry.

He would find Jack and together they'd track down the rest of the team. They'd figure out what was going on, who had done this to them and why, what connection it had to what was happening with the kids. It had to be connected. It was too much of a coincidence that they'd been working on that when somebody tried to blow them up…but who would want us out of the way? And who had the resources to pull it off?

A sound behind him drew him out of his thoughts. Footsteps…heavy boots... cold fear settled itself in his chest. Ianto took a breath to steady himself, had a quick glance at the ground around him…the only weapon that came to hand was a brick. He picked it up and slid deeper into the shelter of the ledge, hoping to at least get the jump on whoever had found him.

"I'm telling you, I saw someone up here," said a voice…female…it sounded like…but it couldn't be.

Only a moment later, he saw that it was. Nerys. But…how…?

Then he saw the man coming up behind her and for half an second, his hand curled tighter around the brick.

Then he dropped it.

He came out of his hiding spot. Before he could say anything to Mickey, however, Nerys was hugging him, seeming to be trying very hard not to cry. He held her, promising that he was all right. He glared at Mickey. He would kill him…

"I got a call from Andy, Gwen's old partner," Mickey was saying. "He said they're sayin' we did this."

Ianto kissed his sister's forehead and eased her away from him so he could talk. "I spoke to Gwen. She said one of them said they worked for the government, but she didn't know which branch or why they were targeting us."

"What about Sara?" Mickey queried.

"She's all right, I saw her after the explosion."

"Jack?" he asked.

The Welshman shook his head. "He…he was trapped inside."

Nerys looked up at him, fresh tears threatening to spill. "Oh, Ianto…Sweetheart…"

"What are you doing here, Nerys?" he cut her off, anger evident in his tone.

"You didn't expect me to just sit back and wait, did you? They said a bomb went off down here!"

"Which makes this the last place you should be!"

"Oi, guys," Mickey cut off their argument, motioning them towards the ledge of the building. "They've found something!"

………………………………………………………

"Director?" Leon Vance's secretary caught him as he was stepping out of his office for lunch.

He gave an irate look, but her expression told him it wasn't something trivial.

"Sir, you might want to take a look at the fax that just came through for you. It's about former Special Agent Timothy McGee and Abigail Scuito."

His frown deepened, but he took the paper from her hand and read it. Then he read it again. He nodded. "Get an armed detail down to the lab. And get this Johnson on the phone. Tell her, her people can come and pick McGee and Scuito up here at their leisure."

He didn't know if they were terrorists or not (deep down, he rather doubted it), but if the British government wanted them, they could have them.