The darkness was never ending. In a world of shadows which twisted into tormented figures, eager for revenge and answers, Captain Jack Harkness awoke. He was still sat at his desk, he knew that; he could feel the old and varnished wood underneath his fingertips as he searched the surrounding area for any indication of where he was. But he knew where he was really; he was locked away in his own mind, driven there by his friends and insecurities. He considered just sitting where he was and allow the passage of time to take control. His body would waste away whilst his mind kept idle in its own makeshift cell, manifested by the Fear Facilitator. He wandered though if his regenerative powers would keep his body fresh and alive, or whether it would fade to nothing and painfully knit itself back together, pulling himself out of this situation as well. At the back of his mind, he pleaded that the latter would not come true. He had put himself here for a reason and that was to forget. Granted, it was not the best place for an escape, but it had been the most convenient. He could simply forget about Torchwood, about Tosh and Owen, even forget about Ianto. He would let his darkest fears consume him from the inside and he would not care.
'Well, fun though this is, how about giving us a little light.' The voice travelled across the darkness and caught Jack unaware, making him fall off balance and collide with the table. Letting out a wince of pain, he subconsciously rubbed at his leg whilst peering into the darkness. He knew that voice, he was certain of it. As if wishing had made it happen, Jack's office became awash with light, so much so that Jack squinted away from the sudden intrusion to his senses. Blinking several times, he looked back to the figure in front of him and gasped.
'Michael?' There, large as life, Michael Andrews stood in front of him, looking no different from the last time he had seen him; dressed in a black polo neck shirt with a red suit jacket over the top with matching trousers, he twiddled an unlit cigar in one hand. Jack always thought he looked like Dean Stockwell in Quantum Leap and remembered how he had tried to stop himself making witty remarks when Michael picked up a PDA. His mind allowed itself to flashback to before his new team, to when Alex had killed himself and the others, leaving Jack all alone once again. Michael had been sent down from Torchwood 2 to assist the Captain and to encourage him to find a new team and rebuild Torchwood 3 from the ashes of the fallen. It was Michael who had encouraged Jack he was making the right decision to take on Suzie Costello. It was Michael who had alerted him to Tosh, locked away in a U.N.I.T holding cell. It was Michael who had stayed with him those long nights when Jack felt like giving up, although Michael had put it straight from the start that his wife would kill him if she knew he was shacking up with the infamous Captain Jack Harkness.
'Thank God for that,' Michael uttered, his Scottish accent soothing Jack as he walked around to meet his dear friend. 'I know you were always one for dark and depressing, but that was just a step too far.' He grinned at Jack who continued to stare at him as if he had seen a ghost.
'Michael?' Jack asked again, to which Michael nodded his head in recognition of his name. 'How...what...what are you doing here?'
'Well it looks like you've picked me to be your Clarence.' Michael let out a laugh before he saw the look of confusion dawn on Jack's face. 'Clarence. It's a Wonderful Life.' Jack's confused expression remained and Michael let out a sigh. 'Really Jack. You've been alive how long and you've never heard of It's a Wonderful Life? What do you do every Christmas? Anyways, cutting a long story short, I'm here to help you.' Shaking his head, Jack tried to encourage his mind to take control again. Why was Michael here? There had never been anything in the blueprints that he had seen of the Fear Facilitator about there being a 'helping hand.' The victims he had seen thrashed around in their comatose state, being chased and hunted by their deepest and darkest fears until their bodies gave out and died from dehydration and malnutrition. That's why the item had been shelved back in the 32nd century.
'Not that I'm not glad to see you again,' Jack started, keeping his eyes on Michael, afraid he would disappear if he looked away. 'But why you? I mean, why didn't my brain conjure someone else to help me out? Why choose someone I haven't seen in nearly five years?' Jack couldn't help but see the slight hurt in Michael's eyes and wished that he had just stayed quiet.
'If I was any less of a man, that statement might have actually hurt.' Jack could see the slight glimmer of humour in his friend's eyes as he apologised. 'Well, to be honest, I don't know really. It's your mind that made me come here. I guess maybe seeing the Doctor would have been too much of an authority figure, Rose would have been too forgiving, John Hart would have been too distracting and Ianto Jones would have...'
'We don't need to bring him up,' Jack said abruptly, the images of Ianto with his arms around another person still burned into his memory.
'And therein lies the rub,' Michael said as he saw a flash of pain cross his friend's face. Stepping closer to Jack, he attempted to regain eye contact without lifting Jack's head physically and preventing him from staring at the ground beneath them. 'Look Jack. I only know as much as you let me know. I'm here to help you mentally and to help you understand your fears, not to interfere. However, if you think you are going to lock yourself away in your own mind for the rest of eternity, you have got another thing coming.' He smiled as he saw his friend's tear stained eyes look into his. 'Plus, I don't fancy hanging around inside your head for eternity as well. Things you think about are enough to make a whore blush.' His smile increased as Jack let out a choked laugh.
'So, you know why I'm here then?' Jack silently said, wringing his hands. He let out a nervous laugh. 'This whole thing is... I don't even know myself why I'm here.' He perched himself onto the edge of the table as he watched Michael walk towards him and follow suit, sliding an item out of the way so he could sit on the table next to Jack.
'Okay, first things first, this isn't the Fear Facilitator you remember.' Jack couldn't help but gaze in amazement as to how Michael knew that was what he was thinking, but he knew he would have to get used to it. 'Back when it was first made, it was severely flawed. They realised it was probably not such a good idea to just bombard the poor souls with their deepest fears. So, using the same psychic software, only thankfully updated, they managed to create a much safer environment for their users. They let the user walk through their nightmare with the psychic image of someone they most desired or felt was the most influential person to help them.' Michael had now lit his cigar and was puffing away, leaving clouds of smoke hovering in Jack's office. 'Hence the It's a Wonderful Life analogy. I mean, helping them see the truth, not showing them how shit life would be for their loved ones if they weren't born. But, you haven't seen the film so why am I trying to rationalise my analogy to you.' Letting out a small laugh as he sent another cloud of smoke into the air, he looked across to his friend as he saw the young immortal trying to take in everything he had just been told.
'So, you help me out with my fears, I go back and live happily ever after in denial?' Jack couldn't help but raise his voice. He didn't want to go back, not yet. What would await him? A pissed off Ianto with his arms around a gorgeous woman and enjoying the life Jack knew he couldn't give to him? No, thank you. Jack was quite content to stay and sulk for just a little while longer.
'Alright, Jack.' Michael began as he straightened his clothing and looked down at his friend. 'Let's start off easy. How about you tell me just what you're most afraid of.' Michael was met with silence. He knew this wasn't going to end as quickly as he had hoped.