First update as a non-teenager! That's exciting. Got the three Torchwood novels for my birthday, hooray. And finally regained some inspiration and cracking on with chapter 52. You don't really care about the rest of my life, so I'll just let the chapter speak for itself. Another long'un I'm afraid.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Owen shrugged. "Wasn't much to say."
"Owen, you met Janie weeks ago!" Gwen exclaimed. "How can you say there wasn't much to say?" As far as she could tell, there was everything to say.
"Tosh met the real Jack weeks ago!" Owen pointed out. "She sort of neglected to tell us that!"
"That's not the same!"
"How is it not the same?"
"We weren't searching for the real… for him." Gwen shook her head, trying to rid herself of the haunting image of the real Captain Jack Harkness. "Owen, you could have known something vital, you could have…" She broke off, not knowing how exactly Owen having met Janie could have helped, but feeling somewhere deep down inside, in her bones, that it would have done.
"I met her in a bar, once, weeks ago." Owen said slowly and irritably. "I had no idea she had anything to do with Rose's stupid missing kids. I didn't even know we were going to end up searching for any kids, did I? So just drop it."
But Gwen wouldn't drop it. She couldn't. "But you know her. You knew her all along and you never said, not once, you never-"
"Not all along."
Gwen paused and frowned. "What?"
"I said, not all along." Owen fell obstinately silent again, and nursed the mug of lukewarm coffee in his hands. Gwen had never felt more like thumping him in her life, but then she relented a little. She felt like this on a regular basis, really, and she usually managed to stop herself from inflicting too much pain on him. It was just the situation, the whole messy stupid situation. She ceased her pacing of the small kitchen on board the TARDIS and sat down at the table next to him.
"How long?" she asked after a long silence. He looked up sulkily. "Owen, don't be like that," she half-pleaded. "I'm just asking."
"What are you asking? How long? How long what?"
"Never going to make having a conversation easy, are you?" Gwen teased him and was glad to see a smile flash across his face, though he quickly forced his features back into their stroppy places. "I was just wondering, how long had you known who Janie really was? Since we met Rose?"
"No." Owen shook his head. "I mean, that photo we took from Rose's living room… she sort of looked familiar but… it was just one night, just some girl in a bar. It wasn't until later. When… when we saw her."
Gwen continued on hurriedly, as that image of the young girl being held captive by the aliens hung horrifically in the air between them. "You never said anything."
"Like I said. Nothing to say."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "Stop saying that. You never even mentioned a girl in a bar."
"Yeah, well I don't discuss everything about my life with you!" Owen snapped. He pulled himself up short and closed his eyes wearily, before massaging them in their sockets. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to snap, I just…" He sighed. "I'm knackered."
"Yeah, we all are." Gwen nodded. "But we don't all forget to mention we've met the missing girl we're looking for."
Owen groaned. "God, Gwen, you must have been one bitch of a policewoman."
Gwen smiled. "I like to think so. Now come on." She nudged him good-naturedly. "I'm a good listener."
Owen smiled back at her. "Yeah, I know you are. I don't know what there is to say though really."
"You could start with when you had a chance to get to a bar to meet her. How did you manage to slip away from Jack?" In the days before they'd found Rose in the other world, Jack had been in particularly bad spirits. No one had been able to put a foot right, and they certainly hadn't been allowed out for a relaxing night in a bar. Gwen remembered not caring that much about her own exhaustion and misery, but instead wishing Jack would talk to her, say something, let some of that tension drop out of him. She supposed in a way, that night before they came away was his way of doing that. And now she'd served her purpose, and he was alright again. She wished she could resign herself to that.
"I said I was checking out something Tosh had found on the computer." Owen shrugged nonchalantly. "I needed a break. I wasn't having anyone, least of all bloody Captain Jack Harkness telling me what to do."
"You could have let the rest of us in on the secret," Gwen muttered. "We could all have done with a night out."
Owen looked at her guiltily. "I would have done, only…" He tailed off.
"You needed a break from everything?" Gwen didn't hold it against him. There'd been so many nights when she felt she'd have gone crazy if she didn't have her nice normal flat and nice normal boyfriend to hide away with, away from the weirdness at work. And then there were other nights when she was willing to do anything to break free from normal, to stay in the Hub a bit longer and be with people who understood what was going on.
"Yeah." Owen shook his head. "After Diane… sorry, you don't want to hear this."
Gwen shrugged. "Why not? I can hardly say you were cheating on me, can I? Not me with the long-term live-in boyfriend."
"You called me a right tosser at the time."
"Woman's prerogative," Gwen said glibly, before glossing over it. "Anyway, after Diane…?"
Owen sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped visibly. "After Diane, I just went a bit crazy I guess."
"No shit."
Owen glared at her. "Are you going to let me finish or not?"
"Sorry." Gwen held her hands up. "Go on."
"I know I did some stupid stuff. The Weevils and the Rift and the gun… I'm sorry. But it seemed right at the time, it seemed…" He rubbed his hand over his hair awkwardly. "I didn't know what I was doing."
"And Janie fits into this how?"
A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth and his voice took on a dreamy quality. "Janie was… Janie was everything I needed that night. She was young and lively and innocent and-"
"Stunningly good looking?" Gwen suggested skeptically.
"That too. She was just everything I missed about… everything." He looked perplexed and confused, and in all honestly wasn't making the greatest sense. And yet something in his voice struck a chord with Gwen. She knew exactly what he meant.
A horrid thought struck her. Knowing Owen as she did, she couldn't help wondering… "Owen, you didn't…." She raised her eyebrows at him. "You didn't…?"
Owen looked disgusted. "Oh for God's sake, Gwen, what do you take me for? She's a kid, just a… kid." He shook his head. "Nah, anyway, even if I wanted to, Jon took her away. Didn't entirely trust me, I don't think."
Gwen frowned. "Jon's never mentioned you."
Owen gave a lop-sided uneasy grin. "That's the wonders of Retcon."
"Oh, Owen, you didn't!" Gwen exclaimed. Jack would kill him if he ever found out, using the memory loss drug on random strangers like that. "Why? She was no danger to you, she…" She closed her eyes in sudden realization. "You told her, didn't you? You couldn't wait to tell her, couldn't wait to spill all of… all of your life to some poor girl in a bar! And then you spiked her drink!"
"Don't you dare judge me, Gwen!" Owen snapped. "We don't all have a nice Rhys sitting at home day after day to talk to and cry on his shoulder. We're not all that lucky, some of us just have to get on with things and deal with it."
"By telling a girl in a bar all about it?" Gwen demanded. "You know I can't tell Rhys anything, you know I can't talk about things like that with him!" It drove her insane. She had this whole other life and Rhys just wasn't a part of it.
"No, that's why you wanted me, isn't it? Someone to talk to, someone who could hold your hand and say 'Oh don't cry, Gwen, it's alright, everything's going to be fine.'" His voice had taken on an ugly mocking tone and he stood up from the table, anger coursing through all his veins. "And then you just called it off, couldn't cope with the guilt. Don't you think I needed someone too?"
"It wasn't just that, though, was it, Owen?" Gwen pointed out.
"Oh, of course, Diane! But you've already said, how can you judge?" Owen growled. "I mean, first Rhys, then me, then back to Rhys, now Jack…" He broke off as an amazed look passed across Gwen's face. "Oh yeah. I know."
"But… how?" Gwen's voice was small and faint, her dark eyes wide in her pale face.
"It doesn't take a genius." Owen felt a bit bad about yelling at her now. "And no, no one else knows, before you ask. Ianto isn't baying for your blood yet."
Gwen smiled weakly before putting her head in her hands. "I never meant it to happen."
"No. We never do." Owen let out a long breath before shoving his hands in his pockets and turning to leave the room.
The Doctor wasn't sure why he'd gone back to Cardiff. The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn't a good one, it wasn't telling him that things would all be better if he headed back to the Welsh capital. In fact, if anything, they were suggesting that being so close to such a big and active Rift was possibly the worst idea in the known universe. Yet still he'd put in the co-ordinates and landed the TARDIS safely back outside the Millennium Centre. By the time the twins and Abby surfaced from their beds the morning after the rescue, they were back where at least one of them belonged.
There'd been a loud squeal from Janie's room that had almost sent the Doctor running down the corridor armed with the sonic screwdriver set to maim, but he'd stopped himself when his daughter had come barreling down the corridor.
"My Ugg boots!" she'd exclaimed, her dark eyes flashing and her smile beaming round at everyone sat in there. "Jon, you remembered my Ugg boots!"
The Doctor looked down at her feet. He frowned before a small quizzical smile came over his face as he took in the cream suede boots on her feet, which she'd tucked a pair of black jogging bottoms into. He vaguely recognized those boots. He remembered Rose spending hours poring over a pair more than once when he'd stupidly allowed her to talk him into going shopping. She'd never bought any though; the price tag was too high. Clearly nothing was too good for her daughter though.
"Mum did," Jon replied, getting up from off the floor where he had been sitting beside Abby for the fifteen minutes since he'd made it out of bed, still in the shorts and t-shirt he wore at night. "You feeling all right today?"
"Yeah!" Abby nodded and increased her grin to one-hundred percent. The Doctor couldn't help thinking it looked a bit false. "All better! Had a fantastic sleep!" Her smile faltered a little and then she gave another shriek. "I just can't believe you remembered my Ugg boots!"
Abby gave a groan, which she'd intended to be out of earshot but was just slightly too loud. They all turned to look at her, directing their attention at her for the first time since Janie had first made her presence known this morning.
"You all right, Abby?" Jon frowned.
Abby scrambled to her feet. "Yeah! Fine!" The Doctor gave her a frown too, as he noticed her bright smile, bright enough to compete with Janie's. "Just… great." She shifted her weight from foot to foot anxiously. "Right. Well. I'm going to go and…" She tailed off; there was nothing to do. She forced the grin up again. "Well, you know." She laughed falsely and hurried down the corridor. She bumped into Ianto on the way down towards her room. He was dressed as usual in his pristine suit. Abby wondered if he ever let his hair down.
"What was all the shouting about?" he asked.
"Oh, Ugg boots." Abby saw a confused look flash across his face. "Don't worry about it, Ianto. It's not worth it."
"You sure?" Ianto fixed his eyes onto hers, and put so much meaning into those two words that Abby nearly answered him truthfully. Only nearly though.
"Yeah, certain." She nodded emphatically. He made to move past her. "Ianto?"
He turned.
"How do you fancy going out tonight?" It was an impulsive thought, and Abby knew that generally, her spur of the moment decisions ended in disaster and at least one person getting hurt, usually herself. But she never learnt from her own mistakes.
"Me? And… you?" Ianto looked at her uncertainly. "Um… Abby…"
"Oh, not like a date!" Abby laughed, colour rising in her cheeks. "Like a night out, like all of us, to sort of… sort of celebrate… stuff." She shook her head hurriedly. "Ignore me, stupid idea."
Ianto smiled. "No, it's a good idea. Do you want to ask the others?"
"Yeah, sure, I'll organize it." Abby nodded eagerly. It had been a rash decision but now that she'd made it, she couldn't wait to execute it. No matter how big the TARDIS was, she was feeling caged in here. She needed to get out.
Back in the control room, Jon seemed happy now his sister was up and about.
"Well, I'm going to take a shower." He gestured down the corridor, but his glances flickered between the Doctor and Janie. "That okay?"
"Fine." The Doctor nodded, not turning his head from where he was fiddling with a dial on the control panel. "Don't use up all the hot water." Jon gave him a perplexed look. He shrugged. "Seemed like the kind of thing you're expected to say."
Jon turned back to Janie. "I'm not going to be gone long, so…"
Janie rolled her eyes. "I'm a big girl, Jon, I can look after myself. I'm not some kid!" She pushed him with her hand. "Go!"
The Doctor stifled a grin. She was Rose re-incarnated in a younger form. Even (dare he say it) a prettier form… after all, she did have some of his blood flowing through her veins too, the kid couldn't help it…
"So." Janie spoke once she was certain Jon was out of earshot. "You're my dad."
The Doctor straightened up and put the sonic screwdriver away, sensing that this was a serious conversation and not the time to be making improvements to the TARDIS. He noted the TARDIS's silent sigh of relief and knew he'd been overdoing that in recent years.
"Yes." He nodded. "Is that a problem?"
Janie shrugged awkwardly. "No, I… I don't know." She chewed her lip in a way that was so Rose the Doctor found himself staring at her wonderingly again. After all the mess that he and Rose had ended in… something so wonderful had come out of it. This girl standing in front of him. That boy who'd just left the room.
She studied his face intently. "What are you?" she asked eventually. She blinked several times. "I mean, are you human?"
"Do I look human?"
"Well, yeah, actually," Janie replied, and he grinned. "But you're not, are you?"
He took a deep breath. "No. I'm not."
"So?"
"Time Lord."
"Alien?"
"Yeah. Is that alright?"
"Yeah. No. I don't know." Janie shook her head. She twisted her hands together anxiously and her eyes darted around the TARDIS uncertainly. She looked so much smaller now, when she stopped her excited screaming and let the mega-watt grin drop for a second. Like a little girl, lost in a strange place. Like her mother, he thought, and thinking of Rose made him know exactly what to do.
"Come here." He held his hand out. Janie hesitated and then put on trembling hand inside his. He pulled her towards him and then guided her into the chair by the side of the control panel. He was about to take his hand back when he found himself unable to detach it from her grip. Her knuckles were turning white from holding on so tightly, but he let her carry on.
"Right. Janie. I'm your dad. I'm an alien." He pulled a face. "Not the best way to start, is it?"
"No," Janie agreed. She looked at him. "You don't look alien. Not like…" She broke off and squeezed his hand extra tight for a split second before speaking again. "Alien. So that means me and Jon are…?"
"Part alien."
Janie gasped and made a strange pained noise.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that."
"No, it's fine." Janie shook her head. She took some deep breaths. It seemed she'd regained some of the feistyness he'd been warned about. She fixed him with flashing dark eyes. "Why didn't you ever come and see us?"
"Ah." The Doctor pulled a face again. "Bit of a tricky situation."
"For an alien?"
"For anyone. I didn't know you existed."
Janie blinked. "Sorry? What?"
"Your mum never mentioned you." Seeing the outraged look on her face, he continued in a hurry. "Not in like a bad way or anything, not because… Oh, it's very complicated." He ran a hand over his face as he began trying to explain. "There's all these different universes, you see, Janie, and I… and well, your mum, come from this universe, the one we're in now. But your mum ended up stuck in your universe and I couldn't get to her." Put like that it didn't sound so complicated. He wondered why he'd never tried it that way before. "Your mum never really had a chance to tell me about you. And even if she had… I couldn't have come and seen you."
"Would you have wanted to?"
A slow smile spread across his face. "More than anything. You, and Jon and your mum… if I could have…" He'd have done so much, if he could have.
It happened so quickly he nearly lost his balance as Janie sprang up and flung her arms around him. She was much shorter than he was, he'd hazard a guess that she was even shorter than Rose. At first he was at a slight loss to know what to do. Then something, he didn't know what, kicked in, and he hugged her back. His little girl, finally safe and here in his arms. He felt something he hadn't felt in a long long time wash over him and settle in his stomach, along with the foreboding feeling that had been dormant there since last night. He'd do anything for this girl, anything at all. Whatever was coming, because he was certain it was, whatever they wanted, they couldn't have it. They weren't taking this one away from him.
"You're doing what?" The Doctor looked at Abby as though she'd said she was buying a hippo. Come to think of it, he'd probably react less if she was. "What did you say?"
"We're going out." Abby bundled her red hair up experimentally and pulled a face in the mirror in front of her. "What do you think?"
"Lovely. What do you mean, out?" The Doctor demanded.
Abby let her hair tumble down again. "The usual. You know. Leaving the house or… TARDIS." She shrugged. "Just a night out. A nice normal non-weird night out. You know." She turned to look at him and ran her eyes up and down him. "Actually, maybe you don't," she said with a grin. "Normal isn't exactly your style."
The Doctor wasn't really in the mood for Abby's teasing. "But who's we?"
Abby rolled her eyes. "Just a whole load of us, me, Ianto, Tosh, Gwen-"
"Actually." They turned to see Gwen standing in the doorway to Abby's room, holding her suitcase. "I should probably go and see Rhys. You know, unpack and things. Get back to normal." Why was it that that word stuck in her throat?
"Oh." Abby nodded. "Right. Well, not Gwen then, but Owen and Jon-"
"No, Jon's not going." The Doctor spoke without thinking and instantly regretted it. There was no plausible explanation for it, or at least, not one he wanted to share with anyone on this TARDIS.
Abby stared at him. "You what? You can't be serious!"
"Deadly."
"Oh come off it!" Abby laughed at him. She really didn't seem to understand what he was telling her. But then again, why would she? He was suddenly acting all parental, setting down the law about when his children could go out. Not exactly the role he was used to.
"He's not going out with you." The Doctor shoved his hands into his pockets, as though that was an ending to it.
"I think you'll find I am." Jon entered the room, holding up two shirts. "Which one do you think?" He gestured between the plain white one and one with a light blue pinstripe.
"That one." The Doctor pointed without thinking to the second one. They both looked at him, Abby with raised eyebrows.
"Seriously, what is it with you and pinstripes?" she asked. "The white one," she added to Jon. "That is, if daddy will let you out." She gave the Doctor a challenging look. He really didn't like this side of Abby; until now, he'd forgotten quite why she'd left, but over the last few days, her old ways had come back to her. She'd been grumpy and her tongue was like a knife. He was almost certain she'd be drinking on this particular occasion too; her hazel eyes were shinier than usual, and even for her, the insults and bitchiness were at an unusual high.
Jon rolled his eyes. "I'm going out," he informed the Doctor coolly. "You can't stop me."
The Doctor sighed. "I just think it might be better if you didn't."
"Why? What's going to happen?" Jon was being fairly reasonable about it all. And on any other day, the Doctor was sure he'd agree with his son, but not today. Not with everything that had happened lately. "What could possibly go wrong on a night out in Cardiff?"
Abby spluttered with laughter again. "You've clearly never been out in Cardiff!" She giggled, and the Doctor became sure that that glass of water by her bedside table wasn't water. She turned her attention back onto the Doctor. "So, there's no real reason for you not letting Jon out, is there?" Her question was loaded. She'd always seen straight through him, known when he was lying. It was unnerving. She was even better at it than Rose was; Abby told so many lies herself, that she could see them a mile off. He knew she hadn't believed him last night when he told her it was over. But how could he admit that in front of Jon? He wasn't even sure himself, it was just a feeling he had. He couldn't go worrying Jon over what could be nothing. Abby had played her trump card. And she'd won.
"No. No, there isn't." The Doctor nodded briefly. "Enjoy yourselves." He left the room, tensing his hands up to try and prevent him screaming. Why had he ever let Abby back onto the TARDIS? Why had he ever thought she could be of any help? Ever since they'd found Janie, she'd been the most difficult person he'd ever traveled with. And now she was drinking. She was rapidly getting out of control, and the Doctor didn't know what to do with her.
He was so lost in his own thoughts, a place he'd been so many times before that he really should have known his way by now, that he collided with Janie.
"Ow!" She glared at him, her dark eyebrows knitting together as she rubbed her shoulder. "Am I invisible or something?"
"Sorry, Janie." The Doctor caught her shoulders and held her upright. "I wasn't paying attention, I was-"
"Miles away," Janie finished the sentence for him. "Mum looks like that sometimes." Like she knew she'd said too much, she pursed her lips together.
"So… I suppose you're off out with everyone then?" The Doctor tried not to let his voice shake as he spoke. Being so close to his daughter again made him ridiculously anxious. Every time he saw her, he felt that same stab of responsibility and a protective urge. Something wasn't right, and it was driving him insane.
Janie smiled, a small smile, and shook her head. "Nah. Not tonight."
He couldn't deny he was relieved. As long as he kept her within sight, within the four safe strong walls of the TARDIS, Janie would be okay. If he could just wrap her up in cotton wool and hide her away for, oooo, a few millennia, it would all be fine. He knew that was an impossibility though.
"I'm still pretty tired," Janie continued explaining. "And I don't really have anything to wear for a night out." She smiled again. "I'll stay in." Hesitantly she added, "We could do something if you liked. Watch a film or… something." She looked up at him, and he could see the desire in her eyes. She wanted some father-daughter bonding, some time to get to know each other. Something to replace all the years he hadn't been there. He was a Time Lord; filling in lost years should have been easy. But he couldn't do what she wanted.
"Tonight? I'm actually quite busy tonight, stuff to do." He scratched his ear awkwardly.
"Oh. Right." Janie nodded hurriedly. "Course. Well, never mind." She headed down the corridor again, still wearing those stupid boots. And his hearts ached for her. She just wanted him to be her daddy, take her for shopping trips and lunches and give her her first driving lessons. Check her boyfriends out for her. Always be on her side. More than anything though, he suddenly felt a wave of grief steal over him, out of nowhere it seemed. It was ridiculous. It had been so long and yet here he was, still in mourning for what he and Rose could have had. The way Janie had looked up at him, her brown eyes huge in her face and unspoken words lingering on her lips… even with the brown hair, she was the spitting image of Rose, all those times he'd shut her out. God, how he wished she was here, so she could hold his hand and tell him what to do.
But he didn't have time for that. He straightened his shoulders and headed towards the console room again. There were too many people relying on him; he had to get started.
"Rhys, I'm home!" Gwen swung the flat door open, her keys jingling in the lock, and looked around. "Rhys?"
He came out of the small kitchen just off the living room, holding a mug of tea. He looked a bit stunned to see her there, and Gwen supposed she should have called ahead. But still, it was her flat.
"Well? You look like you've seen a ghost." She laughed more lightly than she felt. There was something not right about the flat. Something very not right. She looked around, suddenly putting on her police officer's eyes and trying to figure out what it was. Then she realized. "You've tided up."
"What? Oh, yeah." Rhys nodded, and then swallowed a large guilty lump in his throat. Gwen's eyes flickered over to him, scrutinizing his face. He shifted uneasily under her stare and swallowed again. "Everything all right in London? You didn't call."
"I was busy." Gwen narrowed her eyes. "Rhys, what's wrong?"
"Nothing love!" He smiled and offered the mug of tea out to her. "Here, you have this, I'll make another brew." He headed towards the kitchen again.
"Rhys." He stopped dead as she spoke, and his body visibly tensed. Gwen had seen guilty too often. "Rhys, what's happened?"
He turned slowly to face her, and before he even spoke Gwen somehow knew. She didn't know how. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, big and sad like a puppy's that told her. She knew that look. It had faced her every morning in the mirror since she'd joined Torchwood.
"I didn't mean it to happen, Gwen, it was a mistake."
Gwen closed her eyes slowly and breathed out. Then she opened them again. "Do I know her?"
"It was Dawn."
She frowned. "Dawn?"
"Jimbo's sister." Rhys looked awful. "I'm sorry."
Dawn was a stupid little girl, all shiny caramel hair and beaming white grin. She had been flirting with Rhys for months, though Gwen had never figured out why. Dawn was popular with everybody, she could have had any guy she wanted. Only it seemed the guy she wanted was out of bounds. That was typically Dawn.
Gwen nodded slowly. "Right."
"I really am sorry, Gwen, I didn't think, it just sort of happened, and the next thing I knew it was morning and…" He trailed off.
Gwen took a few more deep breaths. She wondered how she should react. Any normal woman would have thrown something at him by now and yelled abuse at him. She should be demanding details and threatening him. She'd seen Eastenders. But all she could feel was a deep grinding pain in her stomach. This wasn't Rhys's fault. Well, obviously she wasn't that pleased that he'd slept with Dawn, and in a sense, that was his fault. But overall… it was bound to happen sooner or later. It wasn't Rhys who had wandered off first.
"You haven't been here, Gwen." His voice was full of pain, and Gwen knew it was true. Ever since Torchwood, she hadn't been there for him. She'd screwed him over, abandoned him. She'd killed this relationship, not him.
"I've slept with someone too."
His eyes widened. "Who?"
"That doesn't matter."
"It matters to me! Who is he?"
Gwen supposed it was only fair. "A guy from work. You don't know him." She bit her lip, on the verge of adding, actually, two guys from work, when she decided against it. There was no need to mention Jack, that had been something else altogether. She would never lump that one night with him in with all those times with Owen.
She looked at her boyfriend now, gauging his reaction. He looked amazed and shocked and disappointed and upset and all sorts of other emotions. How had it come to this? How had they destroyed what they had? No, not they, she corrected herself. How had she made this all happen? Their lovely life, their lovely flat, their friends, their future. All just decimated because of that one evening standing above the Torchwood team, not looking away when she should have done. It wasn't Owen or Jack who had caused this to happen. It was Torchwood.
She cleared her throat. "I came back to get changed." She gestured at the suitcase by her feet. "Do some washing. You know."
Rhys nodded. "Here, let me put your stuff in the washing machine."
Gwen's heart broke for him. She shook her head. "No, it's fine. I'll just…" She needed to get out of the flat, now. "Actually, it's fine. I can manage with what I've got." She picked the suitcase up again and turned for the door.
"Gwen? Where are you going?" Rhys moved across the room towards her.
"I think we need some time apart."
"We've had time apart!" Rhys exclaimed, and to Gwen's horror she saw he was crying. Her Rhys, the man she'd loved for so so long. "Gwen, we need to talk."
"Not now!" Gwen snapped unintentionally. She tried to regain her composure. "I need some time, Rhys, we both do."
"But where are you going to go?"
"I'll find somewhere, I'll stay with a friend." Gwen backed towards the door. "Goodbye Rhys."
Owen knew, even as he stalked out of the club, alcohol pulsing round his body from the last shot he'd hastily knocked back, that what he was doing was a very bad idea. There were a number of reasons why, most of which were very good, but at just gone midnight, his brain wasn't really accepting them. Yes, he should probably be in the club keeping an eye on Abby and Jon. Abby was a mess, the last time he'd seen her, she was dancing with her eyes closed in the middle of the dancefloor. Hell, he should probably be keeping an eye on Ianto and Toshiko; those two were acting like they hadn't been out in years. Probably hadn't, Owen thought with a wry grin.
Another reason why this really wasn't a good idea was that, even for him, he'd drunk a little too much tonight, mostly without even thinking. Not as much as Abby, that was for certain, but enough to make him think that this was actually, if not a good idea, then at least a reasonable and acceptable one. Which if he was sober… actually, who was he kidding? Even if he was sober, he'd probably think this was an okay idea.
He stopped at a twenty-four-seven supermarket on the way. He knew he looked a bit rough; the look on the shopkeeper's face said it all, and he had to admit that when he asked for the twelve-pack of cigarettes, his words were a bit slurred. Still, he got them and sauntered on down to where the TARDIS was located.
It was only when he reached the door, that he remembered something. He was locked out. Only Jon had a key and he was still in that club. That was the first glitch in the plan. He sobered up a little. The idea had been to get in without the Doctor noticing. He really didn't want to explain this to him. Maybe he should just turn round and head on back to his own flat, where he could spend a glorious night in his own bed and nurse the thudding hangover he knew he'd have in the morning. Then his fingers closed round the cigarettes in his pocket and he blocked out the sober part and knocked on the door.
"What the…?" The Doctor swung the door open, a look of confusion on his face. His hair was messy, but that was nothing unusual, though Owen had to admit he looked slightly more stressed than usual. "Owen, what are you doing here? I thought you'd gone out with the others…" His eyes widened. "Has something happened?"
"No, I forgot my house keys." Owen pushed past him. He frowned. "Making a bit of a noise, isn't it?" He gestured towards the time vortex, even though he wasn't entirely sure if it really was that making the noise. It seemed to come from all around him.
"Just some routine stuff." The Doctor scratched his ear. "Going to get your keys then?"
"What?" Owen momentarily lost sight of his great plan. "Oh, right, yeah." He nodded. "Definitely."
He strode down the corridor, counting doors extra carefully; could never be too careful. Finally he reached the one he wanted and knocked on it gingerly.
"Come in." The reply sounded hopeful, excited even.
Owen pushed the door open.
The disappointment on Janie's face couldn't be missed. Her smile fell and her dark eyes became dull and one-dimensional again. "Oh. Hi Owen." Her voice too dropped in tone.
"Don't look so disappointed," he joked, though he had to admit he was hurt. He didn't know why.
"Sorry." Janie managed to pick up the corners of her mouth again. "I just thought…" She broke off. "I thought you guys were going out tonight?"
"I gave up." Owen shrugged. "Wasn't in the mood." Janie nodded wordlessly and switched her attention back to picking her nails. Owen didn't like the awkward silence, and like he'd only just remembered, he said, "Oh, I got these for you." He pulled the packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and through them across the room to her.
Janie pounced on them, catching them messily but catching them nonetheless. "How did you know?" she asked, her dark eyes widening. She thought she was doing a pretty good job of not shaking with the desire for just one more puff. It had been over twenty-four hours since her last, companionable cigarette in Maggie's house.
Owen shrugged. "Lucky guess. You were smoking the night I met you."
"Oh." Janie nodded. "Right." She played with the packet in her hands, turning it over and over. At length she said, "Owen, that's what I don't get."
"What's that?" Owen raised his eyebrows.
"You." Janie pulled a face. "Until yesterday, I didn't remember anything, it was like you didn't even exist until yesterday. But now… I can remember that evening like it was yesterday." She turned her eyes on him, and Owen thought about leaving the room and not explaining things. In all fairness, what he'd done to her was probably the least strange thing to have happened to her lately; being kidnapped by aliens and finding your alien father was probably always going to rate higher on the 'my life is weird' scale than some guy slipping a memory loss pill into your drink. Really getting into his stride, he even managed to formulate a semi-coherent argument about having your drink spiked and how it happened to dozens of girls every weekend all over the country. But maybe that was the point. What he'd done to Janie, ripping her memories away like that… he knew it was a long-shot but he couldn't help feeling that this whole mess was his fault. If she'd remembered all of that, woken up the next morning and thought about what he'd said, then maybe… maybe this eighteen-year-old girl wouldn't have gone through what she had.
"Owen, please." Her voice was small and there was a catch in it. "So much shit's happened lately… tell me what happened that night."
Owen was rubbish at explanations, that was Gwen's or even Jack's job usually. He wasn't a talker, he was a doer, he was a fighter. This kind of stuff didn't come naturally to him.
"I drugged you." It came out all wrong and he saw her recoil away ever so slightly from him, even though he was still right the way across the room. He noticed her hand twitch too, and she lowered her eyes to glance at the cigarettes. He supposed he couldn't blame her; being kidnapped would tend to make a person jumpy.
"Not in a sick way!" he added quickly, and Janie's eyebrows twisted upwards. Teenager talk for 'what are you talking about?' He tried to find his thoughts. "I mean, I wasn't going to… you know… Not that sort of drug, it was…" He grit his teeth. "Look, we've got this drug and it makes you lose your memory. I told you stuff I shouldn't have told anyone and I slipped it into your drink. Usually that's it, the person who takes it forgets whatever happened and the world goes along nicely. But you…" He shook his head. "Maybe you didn't have enough or something."
Janie looked him up and down. "Some doctor you are, getting the dosage wrong."
Owen bit his lip, trying to stop it creasing into a smile. He wasn't sure he was out of the woods yet.
"What about Jon? Why doesn't he remember you?"
"Did he have any of your drink?"
Janie thought back. The memory was barely that at all, it was like it had happened only hours ago, fresh in her mind in a way that things that really had only happened hours ago had faded. "He tried it, to see if it was spiked." She shrugged. "But I don't know, why would it work more on him than me? He can't remember it even now."
Owen was lost on that point too. He knew Retcon wasn't an ordinary drug, but it still followed the basic rules. Which tended to be that the bigger someone was physically, the more of a drug was needed to affect them. It didn't take a genius, or even a doctor, to figure out that Jon should be the one he was having this conversation with. It didn't make sense.
"I don't know the answer to that one."
"Maybe…" Janie spoke again. She smiled slowly. "Maybe it was because I wanted to remember."
Their eyes met and words sprang up on Owen's lips, only to vanish as they heard a loud shout from the Doctor.
"What is this, Torchwood reunion night?"
They exchanged glances and then headed down the corridor. They met Gwen as she swept past, still clutching the suitcase she'd taken with her earlier, and wearing the same clothes. The bottoms of her jeans were soaked through, and her hair was all over the place. The thing most noticeable about her though was her trembling lip, and the way her chest was shuddering like she was struggling not to cry.
"I thought you were going back to your flat." Owen knew as soon as the words left his lips that he'd made a stupid mistake in saying anything. All that time he'd spent with Gwen and he was still useless at talking to her properly.
"Change of plan." Gwen faked a smile. "I… I…" Her eyes darted between them both, desperate for some help with her explanation. She'd walked the whole way here, through the sudden downpour that hadn't been forecast. All she wanted was to dive into her bed and cry into her pillow. Though who or what she was crying for she didn't know.
The suitcase was lifted from her hand and she started to find Janie smiling at her.
"I'll put this lot through the washing machine," she said softly. "Why don't you take a shower?"
Gwen felt tears spring into her eyes, blurring her vision, so that she stumbled when she began moving down the corridor at high speed towards the nearest bathroom. She managed to stutter, "Thank you," before locking the door and losing herself in a world where she didn't know what the water droplets coursing down her cheeks were.
She was dead. No other explanation for it. This was what being dead was like. Totally disconnected, unaware where everything else was. Abby wondered how she'd died; she didn't remember being hit by a car or anybody producing a broken bottle (though in the last club she could remember being in, that was a distinct possibility). Maybe this was what it was like afterwards. Maybe no one remembered how they'd died, and she supposed that was a blessing for some. Nobody wanted their last memory of their life to be staring up at a masked man forcing a shotgun under their chin. It made sense for the moment of death to be obliterated from her memory. The only problem with this whole situation, was that Abby had always maintained a strong and healthy anti-religious stand on life after death. Nothing and no one had ever been able to erode that belief.
The other complication was that voice nearby, so familiar, and yet utterly strange if she was truly dead. Because he, as far as she knew, wasn't, and anyway, he seemed to be yelling at her, which she hoped wouldn't happen if they were both dead together.
"Abby!" He shook her and Abby felt her whole body suddenly reconnect itself and pulse together in one firm direction. Pain shot through her legs and arms and head and stomach, and right into her fingers and toes, and she swore even her nose was mildly twingeing. Regretting every slightly movement, she struggled to open one eye.
She was alive.
The Doctor took the one hazel eye opening blearily as a sign that she was fully awake and functioning. "What the hell did you do last night? What's happened to Jon?"
Abby closed her eye again, the bright white light pulsating against her retinas painfully and causing her stomach to move in completely unnatural ways. She tried to speak, but her mouth felt like someone had attempted to rediscover penicillin and was using it as the test site. She grimaced and flung a heavy arm over her eyes, before managing to croak out, in a voice distinctly un-sexily husky, "Can you at least turn the lights down?"
Like the TARDIS was, for once, on her side, the lights dimmed ever so slightly, and Abby experienced a brief moment of relief, before the Doctor launched in again.
"Abby! What's wrong with Jon?"
Abby reopened her eyes and gazed at him as disdainfully as she could manage before burying her face in her pillow. "I'm fine, by the way," she mumbled into it.
"I can't wake him up!" The Doctor was nearly hysterical, which Abby would have found hilarious if she hadn't wanted to hit him so much. "Abby? What did you do last night?"
"Just the usual." Abby tried to sort through her scattered memories, which mostly involved her standing at the bar. From the raw sting in her feet she assumed she'd danced quite a bit as well, and then there was the taste of beer in her mouth which suggested… Her stomach sank even lower as she realized she hadn't touched any beer last night, deciding that wine and spirits were the way to go.
"Well whatever you did, I can't wake Jon up!"
"So you came to try me instead?" Abby was still drunk enough to find some spirit inside that would let loose her hurt and anger on the Doctor, even if only ever so slightly. "Thanks! I'll repay you the favour some day!" She lifted her head up from underneath the pillow. "He's probably got a hangover! Leave us both alone and find something else to obsess about!"
"He's my son! I'm worried!"
"You managed eighteen years!" Abby spat.
The Doctor regarded her, and Abby could see a look she recognized on his face. Disgust. It looked different played out against his lean dark features rather than on her father's weather-beaten face. Different, but not unrecognizable, in the same way as seeing a photo of your parents on their wedding day and comparing it to their faces now; the hair was greyer, the faces had more lines, but you could tell they were the same people, deep down. When you've seen something so often throughout your life, you'd recognize it anywhere.
"When you finally get up," he said, his voice cold and hard, "You can pack your bags. I'm taking you home, today." He left the room, and as though he'd instructed it as a punishment to her, the TARDIS brought the lights on even brighter than before. Abby disappeared back under the covers, wishing her first response on waking up had come true.
Rose wished she'd listened to Jack as her mum shouted at her down the phone, whilst Rose tried to shove clothes for herself and the kids into the one small holdall she had.
"Rose, you heard what the Doctor said, it's not safe!" Jackie was nearly in tears, and Rose felt awful for putting her mum through all this again. At least when they'd been trapped on this side of the void, it had brought Jackie some comfort; she'd thought she'd never have to wave goodbye to her daughter again. "He's found Janie now, they'll be coming home soon! Please, sweetheart, just hold on a bit longer!"
"Mum, I can't." Rose bit her lip deliberately. She didn't want to worry Jackie, but she had to admit that the way it sounded, she was making a fuss over nothing. If Janie was safe, they'd be here soon and she wouldn't have to go at all. How could she explain this feeling that something was very wrong? Even if she could, how could she convince Jackie that it was vital Rose was there?
"Of course you can!"
"No, Mum, I can't." Rose measured her voice out. "I have to go, I just… I have to." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Mum. I love you. Bye." She hung up and then turned the phone off, not wanting to have to field a similar call only seconds later.
Jack poked his head round the doorframe. "I did tell you not to."
"I had to. It's alright for you, you don't have parents."
"I did have once. And I wouldn't have told them what I was doing."
Rose nodded. "Yeah, well, you'd think differently if you had kids." She forced the zip closed. "Done." She handed the bag over to Jack who pulled a supposedly comical face and mimicked being weighed down by it. "Oh shut up!" Rose slapped him on the arm. "You're getting out of shape Harkness."
"Hey!" Jack whimpered, before breaking out in his flashing smile. "Come on, we need to get going. It'll take us a few hours to get down to Cardiff."
"Remind me why we're going to Wales again, when there's a rift right on our doorstep?" Rose reminded him. She couldn't help thinking it made a lot more sense to make the short journey to Kensington Gardens rather than the three hours plus trip to South Wales.
"I think we might raise a few eyebrows by bursting through Kensington Gardens in a Ford Focus."
"Oh yeah." Rose nodded. "Right. Okay then." She gazed around her room and felt a stabbing pain in her side. She couldn't help thinking this might be the last time she saw this place, and she couldn't figure out why. The Doctor had said it would all be fine, they'd be back here before she knew it. She'd spent eighteen years in this house, longing to get away and feeling she was missing out on life; now she was living the dream again, she wanted to curl up under the bedclothes. She was getting old.
"You'll be back again," Jack said softly, as though he could read her mind.
Rose smiled at him. "I know. Come on."
They headed outside. Rose unlocked her car and was about to open the boot so Jack could throw their bags inside, when a screech of brakes made her turn and see Mickey parking his van badly across her drive. He left the engine running and launched himself out of the vehicle.
"Mum called you, didn't she?" Rose demanded. That was all it took for the blood to begin pumping through her system like the old days, taking her back to the Rose Tyler of old. How dare her mum do that to her, send Mickey as though she needed taking care of.
"Don't go, Rose." Mickey looked between the two of them. "Don't be stupid!"
"I'm not being stupid!" Rose snapped. "I'm going to find my kids, there's nothing stupid about that! Move your van!"
"No!"
"Move it!"
"Rose, I'm not going to let you do this!"
Rose caught Jack's eye, and as one they advanced towards the van.
"What are you doing?" Mickey's brow furrowed and then he realized as Jack swung himself into the driver's seat and Rose clambered in after him. "No! You can't take my van!"
"Here." Rose threw her car keys to him out of the window. "I'm sorry, Mickey. But I've got to go."
Jack revved the engine and pulled away sharply, cutting up a hatchback amidst a cacophony of hooting and screeches of tyres. Rose sat back in her seat and watched her best friend in the wing mirror, as he stood and gazed after them.
