Jack stood atop one of the many tall buildings overlooking the city. He took another swig of his drink and contemplated if anyone would notice if he jumped. He took out the envelope again and turned it over in his hand tracing the lettering of his name. He couldn't bring himself to open it just like he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the fact that Gwen was really dead. Nobody could survive what she had been through.

He took another drink. Normally he would force himself to move on with his life, but he couldn't, not this time. Why he couldn't he didn't know, but he just couldn't. Gwen left an enormous impact on his life changing his perspective while he in turn changed hers. In a way they completed each other. She had a passion for adventure, maintained a normal life even after Rhys, compassionate towards those who even tried to hurt her, was as stubborn as hell, but it was what attracted him to her.

Goddamit why couldn't he stop it? He could have helped her. He could have shut down the machine. He could have figured something else instead of having things end the way they did.

Jack looked at the letter again and sighed. He wasn't sure what he was afraid to find out when opening this letter. All he knew was that he couldn't handle any more bad news and how would Rose even know he was alive anyway with her being in the parallel universe and all. The Doctor didn't even know, so how would she know.

Jack sat down swinging his legs off the edge of the building. This was the cost of insomnia. When your immortal and can't sleep you begin to think. When you begin to think that's all you seem to do is think. And when all you do is think it becomes a bad habit making the mind restless and dead. It was a fact Jack Harkness knew all too well. Before when he did sleep he dreamt about his past and the nightmares. Now he didn't even bother because the only image that appeared in his dreams was the image of her in pain.

His phone began to go off. He was grateful for the distraction. At least it'd get his mind off of everything else.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Jack, Martha Jones is here. She's says she needs to talk to you."

"Ask her if a certain doctor is with her?"

Jack waited a moment as he heard Ianto talk to Martha and then replied, "He was."

"Hold on a second Yan," said Jack.

"Yes sir."

Jack took the phone and hit his head with it a few times. It was now or never he thought and sighed.

"I'll be right over."

"No need," came a voice from behind.

Jack smiled despite the entire sullen mood he was in. A visit from the Doctor always cheered him up. Jack shut the phone and turned to face the intruder.

"Hey Doc," he said.

"I wish you'd stop shortening the name and just say doctor," said the doctor.

"Well it's better than Doctor who? Isn't it?"

The Doctor grinned.

"Since when do you drink Jack," asked the Doctor frowned.

"Oh…just celebrating," he said with a rather drunken smile.

"Oh," said the Doctor taking a step forward, "What are we celebrating?"

Jack turned his back to the Doctor and overlooked the city. He took a deep breath and a long gulp of the contents in the bottle.

"The fact that I'm immortal and I get to live to watch everyone else I love around me die," he said with a cold air in his tone.

The Doctor frowned as the wind began to shift in the atmosphere.

"What happened, Jack?"

"I couldn't save her. At least Rose didn't suffer or so you said, but her tears…her tears and her screams…they burn deeper then all of my old memories and I can't let it go of it this time," he said darkly.

He wiped away the tears forming and took another swig as though it contained all the answers. The Doctor was looking away. He could sense Jack's emotional misery and it pained him knowing he couldn't do anything to help him. The Doctor wouldn't have wished half of his pains on a man he hated most, but from the look of things Jack was suffering and Jack had suffered long before his current situation. Jack had died so many times and known more pain then all humans he was sure. Jack was a good man now and he didn't deserve it no matter.

"You might have a happy ending after all Doc," said Jack suddenly.

The Doctor was so caught up in his thoughts he barely noticed that Jack had spoken.

"Sorry?" he said both in confusion and missing the sentence.

Jack walked to him and took out an envelope and put it in his hand.

"Look at the handwriting," said Jack.

The Doctor stared at the handwriting trying to decipher it. He had seen it before, he was sure, but then again he seen all different kinds of handwriting and most not even in the English language. But this handwriting had a particular curve to it. Where had he seen c's written like that before. His eyes widened as sudden realization dawned on him.

"Jack, is this some kind of joke?"

"You know me better than that," he snapped, "It came through the rift."

"Rose doesn't know your alive I'm sure. How can she address a letter to you if she doesn't know you're alive?"

"I don't know. It could be from the past, but the date at the top of envelope argues otherwise."

"Did you read it?"

"No."

"Jack-"

"-There are probably some writings on how she's been getting on in the alternate universe and how she misses you. The last thing I need is to reminded of the third woman I loved and lost when I've recently lost two."

The Doctor raised a quizzical brow and stared at Jack feeling much more remorse.

"Jack, I'm so sorry. May I ask?"

"Estelle. She was raised and she died again."

"And?"

Jack was silent. Her screams awakened in his ears as he did everything in his power to shut them out. Jack took another drink of the bottle not bothering to breathe as he swallowed continuously. The Doctor could tell that whoever it was, Jack was more upset about it.

"In the TARDIS I assume you recognized that the rift has been quite active though now much more calm."

The Doctor nodded as curiosity and fear of the truth crept through his skin. Jack was darker then the Doctor had ever seen him.

He spoke quietly, "Gwen Cooper had been injured. Her blood was all over the stairs. She was then dragged and brutally strapped to a machine that allowed her mind to understand, control and open the rift that runs through the city of Cardiff. Gwen witnessed things no one should have to know, her mind could not handle it and she unintentionally opened the rift more then ever before.

When she realized what she was doing she closed it up again kil-," he choked on the words.

"Killing herself in the process. Her blood was all over and her body was gone," Jack said quickly finishing the last of the liquor. It wasn't enough. Jack yawned back his tears and stared out into the night sky hating the people of Cardiff because they all had something he lost so long ago and envied them for. They still had their innocence and ignorance. Gwen was innocent, but not ignorant. One of the many, many few. The whole of his team were innocent, but not ignorant. Gwen was the only who suffered for it thus far. How long before he wound up being the killer of the rest of them? Look at what he had already done to Gwen.

"That's interesting. I had a similar experience with a woman like that. Did the Gelth come through?"

"I don't know. As far as I knew everything came through. There were Daleks in the Hub."

"Ah Daleks. Good times," said the Doctor sarcastically.

"Oh yeah," said Jack with even more sarcasm in his voice, "What happened to the woman?"

"Same thing. She opened the rift and closed it sacrificing herself to save the world though only Rose, Charles Dickins and I knew."

"Charles Dickins?"

"Yeah, it's a long story and I'll have to tell you about it after you've had a good night's rest. When was the last time you slept Jack?" The Doctor asked.

"Five months ago," said Jack without hesitation.

"Five months eh? I'm surprised all you've been doing is drinking."

But the Doctor knew or he wouldn't have said it like that. Every day began the same. Jack paid full attention to his team and the matters at hand just as he always did. Every night he'd drink more and more, but liquor on this planet was useless to his body. And then when everyone was fully gone he try again and again, but it would never stick.

He'd pull of his clothes and enter the shower quietly. Turn on the water enjoying the feel of ice on so numb a body. And then he'd take the pistol he left on the side, put it to his head and try again. It was always darkness. He couldn't find her. Even in death he couldn't find her and it would never stick long enough so he could begin to look for her. He'd always wake up, his body in some awkward position, the pistol in his hand or flung on the floor close by and the same empty despair that would return to settle in his stomach. While the wound in his head healed, the invisible wounds remained and a new day dawned and he was still being, scars, memories and all.

Jack took the bottle and dropped it off the edge of the building making sure no one was near in case he accidently hit someone. He couldn't deal with another death of his own causing. Jack watched it drop and hit the cement below.

"You think anyone would notice if I did that?"

"You want to risk it?"

Jack didn't answer, but instead grinned at the Doctor out of sadness and took his friend's hand.

"She was right though."

"Who and about what?" asked the Doctor whilst watching Jack revealing another bottle of liquor from his great coat. Jack popped open the top and offered some to the Doctor who obliged and took only the smallest sip.

"Gwen. We all end up alone."

The Doctor took a longer sip and then handed it back to Jack who took in more then the average man could handle.

"Indeed," said the Doctor as they watched the sun slowly rise over Cardiff,"Indeed…"