It became apparent around early evening that the Rift had every intention of maintaining its silence so Jack sent the team home after devising a shift system to ensure that someone besides him would be present in the Hub at all times. Ianto was up first, maintaining his position at the front desk, leaving the Hub deserted except for Alice and Jack.
Once he'd finished his paperwork, Jack fixed himself a drink and stepped out of his office. Alice was lying on the couch reading. She sat up when she saw his tall shape on the balcony.
"So, how about it?" he asked her with a grin. "Wanna call for a doctor?" Alice slowly put her book down beside her. She looked uncertain, and Jack descended the stairs towards her. "We don't have to if you don't want to," he added when he was close enough to speak quietly. "It's your decision."
Alice bit her lip. As much as she wanted to speak to the Doctor, the idea of seeing him for the first time since he'd brought her to Torchwood made her feel strangely anxious. Still, she knew that if she didn't do it soon her fear would only fester and grow. She squared her shoulders and stood up.
"I'm ready. Let's do it."
Jack nodded and led her over to one of the monitors, pulling a chair around so she could sit.
"All you have to do is pick a screen and punch in the number," he explained as he keyed in the code. "And...there we are!"
Static flickered across the screen and the map of the Rift winked out of existence and was replaced with the achingly familiar view of the TARDIS. Alice could see immediately that she was looking out from the central control panel. And right there in front of her was her Doctor, unshaven, glasses on, squinting at the screen with that stupid expression she loved so much. A myriad of emotions crossed his face rapidly when he saw her.
"Alice," he gasped. Jack gave a little wave and the Doctor jumped and tore his eyes away from her. "And Jack. Is everything alright?"
"Uh, it's a bit difficult to say. We've had an...eventful few days." Jack glanced down at Alice. "Do you want me to give him the rundown or should I leave you alone?"
"I'll explain it to him." Alice managed to look away from the screen long enough to give Jack a small, tense smile. "Thank you, Jack."
"Of course. I'll be in my office if you need me."
Alice stared determinedly at her hands until she heard the door to the office close. Then she took a deep breath and looked up into the Doctor's face.
He looked older since the last time she saw him, though perhaps it had always been that way, and she was only noticing it for the first time now. His eyes shone with joy to see her again, made bittersweet by their distance and the apprehension with which she met his gaze.
"Hello Doctor," she said. The words came out somewhat stiff and he flinched almost imperceptibly. He was surprised how much it stung to hear her use his given name and not "Dad."
"Hello Alice," he replied in a soft, ragged voice. "How are you?"
She shrugged. "Fine, I guess." She wished more than anything that she could touch him, the physical separation only making it harder to swallow the resentment and anguish that rose in her breast when she looked at him. What she really wanted was for him to hold her and press a sweet lie about how everything would be okay into her hair, but all they had to bridge the gap was words.
"Tell me what's going on." In spite of it all his gentle tone wrapped around
Alice like a warm blanket, melting somewhat the chill within her heart.
"I can't stay here," she blurted, cursing inwardly at how childish she sounded. "Something's wrong with the Rift and they think it's because of me."
"Alice, what do you mean? What's gone wrong?"
"I don't fully understand it but a few days ago they detected some kind of...anomaly. Then, last night, there was some activity and I went with one of Jack's team to check it out because I hadn't been outside in a while. I don't remember what happened after we got to the location but...they said there was purple lightning coming out of the ground and when I saw it my eyes started glowing and I started speaking in a voice that wasn't my own. Like someone was possessing me, they said." Alice paused to gulp air down, trying vainly to beat back the distress that was rising in her as she spoke. "I said something—something about a storm coming. And—and—" She had to stop again, this time to swallow the lump in her throat and fight the tears that sprang into her eyes.
"Alice…" The concern in the Doctor's voice and his pain at seeing her so upset almost broke her and she had to press her hands against her face and let out a slow breath to keep from sobbing.
"I said...I said that the Doctor's daughter will destroy the universe," she finally managed in a voice barely more than a whisper.
There was a long, heavy silence. When Alice felt she could look at the Doctor without crying, she saw that his glasses were off and his hand was over his eyes. It was more than she could stand.
"Doctor—Dad—" The tears fell then, and when he dropped his hand to look at her the heartbreak was plain on his face. "P-please take me back," she sobbed, not caring about her pride, not caring how much it disgusted her to beg. "Please, Dad, I want to go home."
Silent tears coursed down the Doctor's cheeks but Alice had covered her face with her hands and did not see. He watched her cry from across the universe, not knowing what to say, not sure that he could trust himself to speak if he did. It was never enough. No matter how hard he tried, even when he tried to separate them from himself, his touch corroded everyone who encountered it like acid. Torchwood had been his great shining hope and now it seemed that leaving Alice there had only made things worse. But what was to be done? Should he throw the TARDIS in gear right now, materialize in the middle of the Hub and fling the doors open to her, or should he trust that Jack could take care of whatever was happening? If he took Alice out of Torchwood would it even matter, or would her prophecy come true regardless of where she was? It was too much, too heavy to bear. More than anything he wanted to tell her something reassuring but he could think of nothing to say that wouldn't sound hollow. He did the only thing he could, which was to be honest with her.
"Alice I...I don't know what to do." The Doctor saw the incredulity on her tearstained face as she looked up at him and he hated himself, his helplessness. He swallowed. "I don't know if…I don't know if it would do any good—this thing might follow you, Alice, it might come to pass no matter where you are and Torchwood...Torchwood is better equipped to defend you than I am. That's why I picked them in the first place. They can use deadly force and I...can't."
"But you can run," she whispered after a long pause. "Run away and never stop. Never let it catch up to us. Run until the universe ends."
The anguish was a long scream in the Doctor's ears as a bitter taste flooded his mouth. Run away and never stop, a distillation of his entire life into one cruel phrase, and he had, he'd seen years and galaxies fly away beneath his feet, seen lifetimes begin and end like stars, and not for a single moment had he been able to escape the weight that bore down on him, crushing his hearts more and more with each passing year.
"It doesn't work, Alice," he said heavily. "Whatever you're running from, it always catches up to you. Always. You can never escape."
Alice was beginning to realize that he wasn't going to come back for her. She felt breathless, then cold, then hot as anger swelled inside her. It was so much that she couldn't even speak, but she wanted to scream, to destroy something, to reach down inside the Doctor and pull out his hearts to dismantle them before him. Her fury was so great that she was shaking and her lips seemed to pull back reflexively over her teeth.
The Doctor looked into her pale face, saw her eyes turned to wild blue fire with rage, saw her cheekbones pressing against her skin as her jaw clenched so tight it trembled, and dread passed over him like a great shadow. He felt distinctly that he had failed. He'd never known Alice to be angry, but he saw now that in trying to protect her he'd unleashed something that even he wasn't sure how to handle. Exhaustion sunk so deep in his bones he felt as if he was being physically dragged downwards. He could only look at her set face through the screen and say in a voice so worn and ancient he hardly recognized it, "I'm sorry."
Alice saw his tears this time and they pierced her even through her anger, but she was still too choked by the latter to speak or otherwise indicate her empathy. She could only stare mutely as he said again, "I'm sorry, Alice. I'm so sorry," in that same broken voice that could not possibly belong to him, her Doctor, the only parent she'd ever known. The drawing she'd made of him as a child seemed to hover before her eyes, taunting her. Her breathing was irregular and suddenly the Hub felt too small, too dense, and she thought that if she did not escape her heart would burst. Alice met the Doctor's eyes one more time, mouthed, "I'm sorry too," and pressed the disconnect button.
The sight of his anguished face flickering into nonexistence sucker-punched her and she doubled over in her seat, sobs wracking her body. Gasping for air and blinded by tears she rose and stumbled towards the elevator.
Jack saw her erratic movement out of the corner of his eye and immediately shot up from his desk and hurled himself to the office door. He called after her but she had already activated the mechanism and collapsed onto the lift just before it began to rise. As he watched her ascend, open-mouthed, the siren blared. Jack wrenched his attention from the lift to the doors; as the former completed its ascent, the latter ground open to reveal Owen, who had the second shift.
