He watched Myfanwy slowly swoop down and cross to her favourite perch. Even she seemed to sense the loss that pervaded the entire Hub. The Weevils were quiet in the cells, though that might be fear from the rift nearly opening. Everywhere else, the lack of Jack's presence, that dynamic energy, was palpable. The whole place was too quiet, too still.
Tosh would enter, and settle down to her usual monitering, as well as making sure all the work on her laptop was copied to the main computers. Owen would come in and sort out the reports Tosh passed to him, though he still wasn't using Jack's desk
They all still called it Jack's desk.
Gwen would arrive, take her coffee, then sit with Jack, for hours. She'd barely notice his existance as he brought her coffee and food which she left to grow cold. At six, Owen would say it was time, and together they would pack her up and send her home.
Gwen had claimed Jack during the day, but at night, Jack was his.
He would bring one of the campbeds into the morgue, and curl up there, updating Jack on the events of the day around Cardiff, Wales, the UK, the world. He talked about his childhood, his family, his life. He talked about Torchwood One and the Battle of Canary Wharf. He talked about Lisa. For the silent, unobtrusive member of the team, he talked a lot.
It made no difference that Jack didn't answer, would never again answer, these were things he needed to tell Jack. He know of the intelligence which lay - had lain - behind the mad stories and blatant innuendos. A depth of knowledge about people, about aliens, about life and living, that was boundless. Jack always seemed - had always seemed - almost omnipresient, until you looked into his eyes and realised that his knowledge came from time and experience.
Tosh was claiming that Jack was a time traveller from 1941, but he supposed now they would never know the truth behind Jack's past, know his real name, or what he had done. At the end of it all though, that didn't matter. What he did know, was that without Jack; The Hub, their lives, his life, was empty and cold.
Jack Harkness was Torchwood Three - Cardiff, and now they were all lost.
ooo000ooo000ooo
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