Retcon 14

Summary/ Inspiration: What exactly happened to Jack during the time the Doctor dropped him off on the Plass and him meeting up with the Torchwood team? After all, it was dark when he met the team, yet is was light when he said his farewells to the Doctor…

This is my take on the action...

He's Back, Back Again

Jack practically skipped onto the concrete block beside the water fountain. He was excited about going to meet his team, and happy the Doctor had wanted him to go travelling again in the TARDIS. He'd earned his place in that team and was relieved to be back on the right side of the Time Lord. As well as that, his team wasn't dead, Martha had saved the world and he was still alive. As the lift descended, a quiet thought occurred to him, seeding a doubt he'd previously managed to push to the back of his mind- did the doctor want him to stay because he wasn't ready for this just yet? Jack shook his head, as if shaking away the doubt. Of course he was ready! He was Captain Jack Harkness… Freak. He ignored the taunting voice. It would fade; the Doctor had said it would just take time for the lingering effects of the Time Lord to disappear completely from his thoughts.

He was Captain Jack Harkness… he bounces back from death at the drop of a hat- Although it was a little longer than that at the moment, he conceded reluctantly, as he stepped off the lift, rolling his shoulders gingerly, which were still a little stiff. Repetitive Strain Injury didn't usually last a year without a single break for recovery. There was no knowing exactly what effect his time in captivity would have on his body; and Jack for one wasn't looking forward to finding out. Still, he shrugged, at least I'm back, plenty o' time to recover now. He checked his coat pocket for the tiny liquid purple pills the Doctor had given him, to help speed his recovery, reassured when he felt them still there, beside a replica mobile phone of the one he'd lost on the Valiant.

Ascending the stairs to his office he was surprised to find a lock on the door. There was no way he'd figure out which of his many keys it was, if he even had the right key, he concluded, so Jack just used his wrist strap on the basic lock, before stepping just inside his office, inhaling deeply. The strong smell of antique wood and polish, mixed with gun oil and a whole myriad of unique smells assaulted his nostrils. It was almost exactly as he'd left it. The only noticeable change was that all the paperwork was completed. There was just a neat, tiered pile in the centre of his desk of new reports. Glancing briefly over the dates he found there was one for each week he'd been away, listing each of the missions the team had undertaken, how it had been dealt with and the number of casualties or Retcon victims. Jack was impressed, but he could spot Ianto's handiwork a mile off and this clearly spoke of the organised proficiency Jack knew so well. He was grateful to the young man for his help; at least he would be up to date with current affairs.

Jack sat behind his desk and slowly began to read through the reports. Two weeks worth of reports later and Jack felt he needed a break; and where were the rest of the team? He replaced the reports back into piles to read later, a little less tidy than earlier, but that didn't really matter.

Jack turned and made his way towards the ladder in the floor that led to his private bunker, descending the narrow ladder. He gave a surprised yelp, when the muscles across his back and shoulders protested at the strain he'd just put them under. Having his arms in shackles so long had really affected the muscles; it would be a while before he was back to normal, well- as normal as 'The Freak' ever got. Jack shook his head, ridding his mind of the thought and stopped using his arms and aching upper body for support, descending the remaining stairs without hands. Once on level ground Jack removed his shirt and headed for the shower. It was just what he felt he needed to soothe the aching and still protesting muscles. Upon discovering lifting his arms to remove his undershirt was even more agony than earlier, and could not be ignored, Jack sourced one of the liquid, purple pills the Doctor had given him and simply ripped the T-shirt, throwing the tattered remains into the bin.

When he stepped from his bunker, almost an hour later Jack felt immeasurably better, if a little tired. He still hadn't quite established a normal sleeping routine yet, and tired more easily. He wondered what the team would think if he asked them to take on a few of the night shifts. Owen wouldn't be happy and Tosh wouldn't be much use, not being a night owl, but Ianto and Gwen would cope between them he thought. He'd been so lost in his own thoughts,that he'd completely missed Gwen Cooper staring at his descent from his office towards the coffee machine in disbelief.

"Jack?" It was almost doubtful, as if she couldn't believe it was really him, as if she thought he was a ghost, an hallucination. Until he glanced up and grinned brightly. "Hey Gwen, where is everybody?" Gwen's mouth worked to form words several times before she finally managed to utter a sound.

"You're back!" Thousands of emotions played across her open face, too fast for Jack to interpret.

"Really?" Jack glanced behind him in jest, "Where?" He grinned innocently back at her.

A tight smile graced Gwen's lips, a tiny acknowledgement of the joke before her eyes filled with tears. The faux smile on Jack's face slackened, as he realised he needed to tread more carefully. "Gwen, why don't we go up to my office and talk for a bit, yeah?" he suggested, stepping closer and cautiously putting an arm around her shaking shoulders. Well this is going well, Jack thought, he'd been aiming for a lighter atmosphere when he came back. Maybe meeting the whole team at once would have been better…

Just as they started up the metal stairs Gwen seemed to pull herself together somewhat, "You've got a lot of answering to do Harkness!" She started bravely, as tears still filled her eyes. "If you think you can come back here like nothing hap-"

"I know Gwen," Jack said sincerely, meeting her gaze, "Just- let's go to my office and talk, okay?" Reluctantly Gwen let him continue to lead her up the stairs.

Once they were both up in his office Jack poured a large measure of brandy into glass tumblers from his decanter. Into one glass he slipped a short-term Retcon pill, before handing it to Gwen, and seating himself comfortably behind his desk.

"So, where are the others?" Jack asked, still trying to roll out the tension from his stiff shoulders. He took a sip of his drink and subconsciously Gwen mimicked the action before answering his question with a shrug. "Got called out I s'pose. I was ordered to sleep-in by the rest of the team. Apparently I work too hard."

A smile graced Jack's lips, so they'd managed without him. Well, that's okay then, he thought.

"Where've you been Jack?"

The direct question surprised him coming from Gwen; he was expecting her to be a little more subtle, more understanding. His gaze flickered to her face before darting away; he couldn't let her see the emotions the question stirred up. Looking everywhere but towards her Jack sighed heavily.

"Tell me Jack."

He swallowed, glancing back at her, gauging what to tell her, how much he could say before he came undone. The Doctor had been right, he wasn't ready for this. "I'm sorry" He muttered gruffly getting gingerly to his feet, "I can't do this now." he was right, "Can we talk about something else?" he asked almost desperately. The pain in his back was returning and he no longer wanted to talk.

Gwen took a huge gulp at the remnants of the liquid, Dutch courage he realised, after her next comment, "No Jack, you can't just shut me away!" She stood up abruptly, "I wanna kno-" Gwen's words started to slur, getting higher in pitch, "Ha'you drugged-?"

"I'm sorry" he whispered. She'd barely finished before Jack stepped forward to catch her boneless frame.

The sudden move caused a jolt of pain across his back and Jack hissed in agony, his aching muscles showing their disapproval and with a grunt of pain and effort, Jack quickly lifted her in fiercely protesting arms. For his plan to work he'd need to place Gwen at her desk, make it look like she'd just fallen asleep there in the middle of working. It wouldn't be the first time.

Task completed, Jack staggered up to his office. He was about to 'crash' and this was gonna be painful with out the TARDIS soothing his thoughts and some sort of pain-killer in his system. Jack just made it onto his cramped bed before pain ripped through him, and he blacked out to the sounds of his own screams.

-T-

Jack didn't know how long he'd been out when he woke up the second time, but if his aching throat was anything to go by, he'd been out for the count and probably still screaming for many hours. The first time Jack had woken, it'd been himself, screaming that had done it, before he controlled himself and fell silent. He'd managed to at least remove his shoes and shirt, which was now badly creased, before exhaustion and phantom pain, memories of death, and recovery agony all mingled once more into pained whimpers. He managed to keep the sound to a minimum, but he'd have to wipe the audio from the Hub's recorded sound files later. Getting fully dressed again, Jack downed the glass of water he found on his bedside without a thought as to how it had arrived there. If he'd questioned it, or the freshly folded shirt, he may have guessed correctly- Ianto knew about the screaming, and had probably deleted the relevant sound files for him already. Instead, Jack just dressed in the shirt, refilled and downed the glass of water, before replacing it, empty, back on the side table.

When he climbed the ladder to his office there was no sign of Gwen and the lights across the hub had dimmed automatically- that meant it was after 7 p.m. Looking around Jack spotted the signs the team had been back; take-away remains in the bin, half drunk coffee mugs- they'd left in a hurry, silently flashing alert on the rift monitor. Making his way towards Tosh's computer Jack traced the report's status: Responding…

So, his team were out on an alert. Jack read on. Blowfish! He hadn't seen one of them in years, but neither had the team. Deciding the relatively neutral territory and fairly harmless alert would be good for meeting the team, Jack holstered his Webley to his belt, struggled into his great-coat and exited the hub.

Travel from the Plass was tricky, but not impossible, he'd flagged a taxicab and directed the driver to "Drive North, North East, until I give you further instructions." He thought the alert was in a residential area, Butetown, but he couldn't be sure, not having travelled around Cardiff in a year. There were a few things he hadn't done in a year, he was still getting used to feeding himself, and still preferred a spoon to a fork, with the prongs which seemed to want to cause him harm. "Left here!" He said quickly, glancing back at the PDA he was holding, the blue screen casting an eerie glow on his face. After a few more instructions Jack found what he was looking for- the SUV, lights flashing, and a red sports car, doors open but rear wheels shot out.

Jack patted his pockets and realising he had yet to get some currency, took out his Torchwood ID. Flashing it at the driver, he ordered the man to drive as far away, as fast as he dared, before allowing the man to view the Webley he now held in one hand. The man didn't think twice, putting the car in reverse and following the government officials instructions to the letter.

Jack sighed and silently stole towards the house which had the most lights on, and the sounds of a commotion going on. When he approached the front door he tensed on spotting the front door ajar a few inches. If Ianto was still the last member to enter situations in formation, then something must be serious if Ianto's neglected to shut the door properly. Jack entered, took in the situation and fired, there was no negotiating with the creature if it already had it's own hostage and a weapon.

The whole of his team froze for what felt like ages. Ianto was first to move, looking across the barrel of his gun, before deducing correctly; turning on his heel to see Captain Jack Harkness in his full glory, grinning back.

"He kids, d'ya miss me...?" He laughed.

Phew! Finally it's finished. You'll notice the -T- break, they're a new addition to a bit I got stuck on. I hope it still reads alright and makes sense. Perhaps I'll go back and add more, creating a seamless flow, but for now, let me know what you think of this. It's been in the 'pipeline' for ooh, 6 months? More soon, but they're all in the same, um, state as this one was (half finished), so again, might take a while, but I'm trying to establish a better routine for writing, so maybe I'll improve!

Carrie;-)