A Torchwood Christmas Carol
a Torchwood story
by RoadrunnerGER
Disclaimer: The usual, the BBC owns them, unless they are willing to give them as Christmas present to us. A Christmas Carol is written by the adored Charles Dickens. This is to honour both of them and the actors playing our favourite characters so well.
A/N: Thank you for your reviews and your hugs. :D Let's see how you like the last spirit. Thanks again to JantoFan for beta reading. Happy Fourth Advent everyone! Enjoy!
The Last Of The Three Spirits
Thrown out of the vortex Jack flew right into a snowdrift. Shuddering he scrambled to his feet.
He was freezing.
Whoa! It wasn't that cold when we were at the Jones's cottage, he thought. Now he realized that he, coming right out of his bunker earlier, wore neither boots nor his coat.
So he stomped from one foot on the other, shivering, looking around to determine where John had dumped him.
And then he realized that he was out on the Roald Dahl Plass.
Falling into a fast trot Jack headed for the water tower.
Where's the stone under the thick layer of snow?
Jack was pretty sure that he stood on the right place and pushed the buttons on his wrist strap.
Nothing happened.
Confused Jack looked around, shifted his position, and tried it again. Without success.
"Dammit!" he swore and was about to head for the tourist office when he was stopped in his tracks.
"Jaaack!"
For some odd reason Jack shuddered when he heard the whining call.
The clock of the church beside the oval basin struck one.
"You don't want to go now, do you?" the creepy voice asked.
Jack spun around, trying to find its origin. From behind the water tower a figure emerged.
"You'd miss the best of the show."
Jack gaped at the man who appeared in front of him.
"I know you, don't I?" he asked and the man's features split into a maniacal smile. "You're Harold Saxon!"
"I once used to pretend to be a man called Harold Saxon," the man said, approaching Jack quite slowly. "Now I'm a ghost… thanks to you. Well, kind of."
His evil smirk chased chills down Jack's back. "Why thanks to me? What did I do?"
"Ah, well, you can't remember, Jack. It hasn't happened yet." He laughed insanely. "I'm a time lord, Jack. I was a time lord. I refused to regenerate after Lucy shot me." He shook his head as if he still could not believe it. "Always the women…"
"What are you talking about?" Jack blurted out. "Quit the bullshit and tell me…"
"Uh uhhh," Saxon cut him short. "Be careful what you're saying. You don't want to annoy me."
"What if I do?" Jack challenged.
"Well, then I'll have to punish you." Smirking wickedly he pulled something out of his inner jacket pocked. "Laser screwdriver," Saxon cheered, presenting the item in question like a spokesman would do with a product in an advertisement. "Who'd have sonic?"
And with that he pointed the tip of it at Jack and pushed a button. The beam hitting his chest killed the captain instantly.
"Hm, reminds me of our first meeting on the Valiant," Saxon said, towering over Jack's dead body. "Now you had better behave yourself!"
About three minutes later Jack resurrected panting and coughing, clutching at the first object he could take hold of, which happened to be Saxon's left leg.
"Hey! Keep your hands to yourself!" the man complained, pointing his screwdriver at Jack.
So the captain pulled back his hand and scrambled to his feet.
"Maybe I should advise you that you better behave yourself," Saxon told him. "I guess you didn't hear it the first time. What with being killed and all." He sighed theatrically. "So, show some respect… and call me by my real name. I…" he made a pause for effect, "am… The Master!"
Jack frowned deeply. He had no idea what he should make of this odd man, but he got a feeling that he was not merely odd but rather lunatic.
"Sooo, Jack," the Master told him, pointing at the captain's left wrist. "Time to go. I'll tell you where."
"My wrist strap? It doesn't teleport anymore."
Grabbing Jack's arm and twisting it hard to get better access to the device the Master pointed his screwdriver at it. Then he started to type in the coordinates.
"No!" Jack said and tried to twist out of the Master's hold.
Tilting his head to the side and rising his eyebrows over his wicked grin, he directed his screwdriver at Jack again. That made the captain stop his squirming quickly. So the Master finished recalibrating the manipulator and, taking hold on it, he pushed a button. Jack could do nothing against the nauseating pressure of transport.
xXx
"You bastard!" Rhys Williams shouted, grabbing Jack's arm and spinning him around. "You thought I wouldn't find out?"
"Wouldn't find out what?"
It was his future self Jack was watching who said that. Jack had a suspicion about what Rhys meant, but so far he could not be sure.
"You were the one who stole our stuff! Am I right? You broke into our house and stole everything that could remind me of my wife, all the pictures, her books, her music, her clothes. You didn't leave anything! You're a bloody bastard, Harkness!"
Rhys's voice was thick with grief and Jack could not begrudge him that. He was absolutely right. Still it was the only way he thought that he could deal with it. Working for Torchwood Gwen knew that the day would come when he would have to take her belongings to store them in a garage like he did with Suzie's possessions, too.
Okay, by then she did not know that she would be married one day.
"We have kids for God's sake!" Rhys ranted on. "What am I supposed to tell them? They have nothing left of their mother, how can I explain that? What am I supposed to tell them?! You didn't even leave one photo, Jack! Not even a bloody photo!"
"I'm sorry, Rhys," Jack's future self said. "You knew what would happen. Don't blame me now."
"But I do blame you!" Rhys screamed. "We won't even be able to rest beside each other! Or will you come when I'm gone and put me in a box beside her in the morgue? What about our children? Where can they find us?"
Astonished the future Jack raised an eyebrow at Rhys.
And the present Jack did the same.
"There's nothing left to talk about, Rhys. I can't let you have her body. I'm sorry."
"Oh, you're not sorry, you bastard. I wish I could make you really sorry. Too bad that I can't kill you!"
"Rhys," Jack tried to calm him.
"The only comfort I have is that you're in the same situation. Where do you go to grieve for your love? Where do you go to remember Ianto?"
"Ianto?" Jack gasped.
Rhys did not seem to have changed much. Seeing him as widower had been a shock. To learn that Ianto died even before Gwen was a horrifying thought.
The future Jack just turned around and walked away. Rhys just stood there and watched him go, his face flushed with fury and tears running down his cheeks.
Oh, God, Jack thought. Could I really do that to Gwen and Rhys?
If he was honest, Jack had never even thought about what losing Gwen would do to Rhys. When Gwen had asked what would happen if she left all her stuff to him and Torchwood, back when she first joined, Jack had told her they would just take Rhys too. He had half meant it as a joke, but… of course, since then everything had changed. Judging by what he had just heard Rhys had found out about them, about what Gwen did. He was married to her and, of course, the children had been unexpected. Torchwood 1 had had a rule that female Torchwood employees were not allowed to have kids. It became too dangerous, they had too much to lose.
Jack had never believed in that rule. He had been stupid, he realised now, not to think about this happening. It had just never crossed his mind that Gwen would die any time soon…
"Can we go back now?" Jack asked.
Grinning wickedly the Master shook his head.
"No, Jack. We still have a way to go."
"But I don't want to see that!" Jack yelled in the Master's face. "I know that I'll outlive them! What's the point in showing me when and how they die?"
"You still don't get the point, do you, Jack? And I thought it was… obvious!"
And with that the Master shoved Jack backwards, right in front of a bus.
A few seconds were all Jack had left to look up, realize what would happen, and scream. Then he was hit by the bus.
xXx
Gasping for breath Jack revived lying on his back with his limbs sprawled like a starfish. His head was spinning. Or was the world spinning around him? For all he knew it could also be the latter. No, he was almost sure it was himself who was so dizzy.
"So! You're back!"
Looking up Jack found himself face to face with the Master. For a second he toyed with the idea of punching that smug smile off of his face.
As if he could read his thoughts, the smile faded slightly and the Master stepped back with a frown. When he spoke, it was in the admonishing tone one might use with a small child who had misbehaved. "No, no, Jack. Don't even think about hitting me. I'd have to kill you again."
Even though he knew that he would come back that was not an option for Jack. Resurrecting was no fun. Dying was no fun either.
Like being run over by a bus.
God, his head hurt.
Shouldn't it have run right through me? Jack wondered.
"You ask yourself why the bus could hit you?" the Master taunted. "Must be because it was my Tardis."
"You have a TARDIS?" Oh, great! I definitely prefer the police box disguise.
The Master smiled mildly. "You don't approve? Or perhaps you miss his TARDIS? Jack. That police box is so pathetic. Way below the Tardis's possibilities."
"He loves it and the Tardis never complained."
"As I said. Pathetic."
"Where are we?" Jack demanded to know, scrambling to his feet.
"Earth, future Christmas," the Master replied curtly. "Just like the one before."
"It's a possible future, right?" Jack asked. "It's not what will happen but what could happen."
The Master just shrugged.
"Yes, it's that, right? The Doctor once told me that he can see all variations of time that was and that could be. So you picked one of many scenarios to show me?"
"If that's what he told you…"
"So where are we?" Jack changed the subject.
"I already told you, we're on earth."
Jack saw the Master's features darken. He probably should not ask again. The time lord stood in a peculiar posture, his arms crossed and one finger pointing to his left. Looking in that direction Jack could not see anything but ruins. It was night. Moonlight shone down on weathered remains of what once had been a city street. There were no landmarks that could give away in which town they were.
"Where are we?" it slipped from Jack's lips. He regretted it at once when the beam of the laser screwdriver hit him.
"Whoa!" he gasped when he revived a few minutes later. "Why the fuck are you doing that?"
"Don't swear, Jack," the Master admonished him, pointing the screwdriver at him. Then he gestured in the direction he had indicated before.
"Okay, okay," Jack grumbled as he dragged himself up to his feet and stumbled over to the ruins. Through an opening between the bricks he climbed into the house and deeper into the shadows. Further ahead a light shimmered in the darkness. Jack found that its origin was in the cellar. Dreading what he might find Jack stalked down the stairs and further toward the light.
He heard voices.
Jack shuddered. He knew one of them.
It was his own.
A glimpse of a possible future, Jack thought. Chills shot down his back. He was not sure if he wanted to know what might be ahead. Except what he already knew from school and his work for the Time Agency.
"You are Jack Harkness, aren't you?" another male voice queried right then.
"Would it matter? What difference would it make if I was?"
"You could help us! You could make a difference!"
Stepping around the next corner Jack entered a room where a fire was burning in a makeshift hearth. It was the only source of light. His future self leaned in a bed of several cushions. They all were worn and shabby. A few cans stood in a corner and a single pot stood beside the fire.
Once more Jack shuddered.
The man who was talking to him was clad in heavy boots and leather trousers. They were as worn as Jack's cushions and the jacket that covered the man's upper body had holes and only one sleeve.
"I can't make any difference," Jack laughed, bitter.
"Yes, you can. I'm sure you can."
"Sorry, but you're wasting your time."
The future Jack took a knife and a piece of iron and started to sharpen his knife. It made a distinct scraping sound each time he drew the blade over the metal.
"I can't believe that you really mean that. I've heard stories! You were the leader of Torchwood. You fought all kinds of threats against earth… successfully! You could do it again!"
"No."
Jack was surprised by his harsh answer. He could not believe that he could ever be that hard hearted. What had happened? Where were they? When were they? What had destroyed the city?
"How can you say no?!" the man thundered. "You know what's happening all over the world! You can't want that to continue!"
"I'm not oblivious to what is going on," Jack spat sharply. "That's why I'm not going to get involved. I'm fed up. Now go!"
"I won't go! I was sent to bring you to our commander and that's what I will do!"
Jack was so fast on his feet that the other man did not have a chance to defend himself. In one moment he was arguing and in the next he was pressed against a wall with Jack's knife against his throat.
"You're not in the position to demand anything," Jack snarled, pressing the blade harder against the man's neck. "I'll give you one more chance to leave. If you don't go voluntarily I'll kill you."
He let go of him and shoved him toward the exit.
Jack watched with horror. That was what he could turn into? The people in his time now called him an arrogant bastard. What would they call him then? Jack hated what he saw.
"Look at you Jack Harkness. Yesterday's shining hero dwells in the ruins just like the rest of us," the man spat as he went to the door. "Too scared to fight with our resistance against our suppressors. My great great grandfather would loath to see you like that."
"I couldn't care less about your ancestor," Jack growled. "Out!"
"He wouldn't stand back and watch how our planet is exploited and destroyed by the Daleks!" the man shouted at his face. "Look around you! Humanity enslaved to dig up the last of our resources! He told his family what he used to do! His beliefs were carried forward by each generation, and I for one share them! I know that he would have fought, that's why I'm part of the resistance! He believed in you! Every generation of Joneses was told that you were the man to go to when they needed help."
"Then you were misinformed," Jack said, raising his knife threateningly. "And now get out of here!"
Jones. Jones was a pretty common name, but the way the man said it had something demanding. Jack was quite sure that he meant a special Jones family.
"Ianto would turn over in his grave if he could see you now! I thought if anyone could convince you to fight with us it would be me, but obviously I was mistaken. I thought it was an honour to have his and your blood run through my veins, but now I have to realize that I should be ashamed of my ancestry… at least half of it."
Ianto's and mine? This man… this man is Ianto's great great grandson? Jack shuddered. And, if he had understood correctly, the man was also his own great great grandson. He and Ianto had kids? When? And more to the point, how? Did I really take the risk to get pregnant? Jack wondered. In the 51st century male pregnancies were common enough, but in the 21st?
Only now the man turned to leave. As he vanished in the corridor and up the stairs Jack put his knife away and settled back down on his cushions.
Jack was thunderstruck. When would he become such an ass?
Wordlessly he stared at his future self. How could that happen? How could I change so much, become so selfish? I've changed so much since the Doctor found me during the London Blitz! It shocked him that he could change back again. That he could actually get worse.
Gasping for breath he stumbled over to where his future self lay on the cushions, nursing a bottle.
Careless.
Heartless.
Indifferent.
Those were words Jack did not want to ever describe him.
But they were the first ones that came to his mind when he looked down at his future self.
"No!" he gasped and virtually darted out of the cellar and out of the house.
Right into a Dalek patrol.
They came up the road and went right through him.
Frantically Jack scanned the area for any sign of his and Ianto's great great grandson, but he could not see him anywhere. Good. That meant that the Daleks could not see him either. But where was he?
Hearing feet shuffle Jack turned to the right and followed the sound. Unfortunately the Daleks had heard it, too.
"Exterminate!" one of them shrieked.
A second later Jack saw people run across the street.
"No!" he screamed, forgetting that they could not hear him. "Find cover, somewhere to hide! Off the street! Run!"
Jack ran after the group, bringing himself between the people and the Daleks. He had no weapon to fire. He had not even boots on his feet.
"Exterminate! Exterminate!" the Daleks shrieked repeatedly.
Jack ran.
Remembering that he could do nothing to help them, Jack at least wanted to see if they could get to safety. They vanished between ruins and he followed them. Only peripherally he noticed that the Daleks' screams faded behind him. When it registered in his mind he slowed his run and turned around.
The Daleks stood in front of the ruins, unable to get in.
Why aren't they following us? Jack wondered, staring at the aliens. Why can't they get inside?
When he raised his gaze over the top of the Daleks his heart skipped a beat. In the distance behind them he spotted a building that was not yet as destroyed as all the others. It was still solid enough for him to recognise its shape…
"Cardiff," Jack gasped, as he identified one of his favourite vantage points. "This is Cardiff!"
"You mean, this was Cardiff."
There stood the Master, smirking at Jack. The captain would have loved to shoot him if he had a weapon and the time lord was not dead already.
"How did this happen?" Jack demanded to know, his voice breaking with anxiety. "What happened to Torchwood, to UNIT? Why is no-one helping them? Tell me! Maybe I could stop this from happening!"
"How can you not understand this yet? I don't care about you or your poxy planet." The Master sighed, rolling his eyes. "Let's just say this is what happens when the Boss goes away."
"It can be changed though, right?"
The Master shrugged infuriatingly. "Can it?"
"Why are you showing me this?" Jack demanded to know. "If this is a future I can't change, then why bother showing me?"
Enraged by the way the Master stood in this complacent posture, slightly leaning back and the arms crossed over his chest, Jack lunged for the time lord.
"Look out," the Master said cheerfully, pointing upwards.
Automatically Jack stopped and looked up only to see a heavy rock crash down on him.
Splat!
"My TARDIS is pretty versatile, isn't it?" the Master rejoiced, gazing at the rock that had buried Jack with obvious pride.
xXx
This time it was harder to resurrect. When Jack came to, panting, each and every part of his body hurt. He could not get up. As soon as he tried to move his head felt as if someone drove an axe in.
So he did not move.
His dizziness did not seem to pass. Even though he remained motionless for a while it did not subside. As he did not feel like getting up he tried to remember what happened, but everything was a blur. He had vague memories of a giant rock, ready to smash him.
He heard a low chuckle.
Now that was a first timer, Jack thought. I can't remember getting dashed to pieces… and I shouldn't do that again.
Deciding that he could not lie there forever Jack pushed himself up to a sitting position. Now he noticed that the ground was soft, like sofa cushions, but it was broader than a couch. Patting around he found more cushions beside himself and he leaned against it with a sigh.
A moan finally made him open his eyes.
Soft light filled the room. One look was enough for Jack to know why the ground was so soft as well as the walls. They all were padded, even the door.
Where am I now?
Letting his eyes roam through the empty room he found the source of the moan. In a corner crouched someone with dark unruly hair. Judging by the deep voice Jack could tell that it was a man. He sounded distressed, the moans rising to groans.
Unexpectedly the man hit the wall with his fist. He jumped to his feet and ran across the room into another wall.
With horror Jack heard himself scream in agony and pound his fists against the pads.
What happened to me? No! That can not happen! Please, no!
The door opened and another man came in. He held plastic dishes and a plastic cup.
Nothing I could hurt him or myself with, Jack thought bitterly.
"Easy, Jack," the man said. "Come. Let us sit down. I brought you something to eat."
"No. Can't. Have to get out of here," Jack replied and tried to slip through the door before it closed, but he was not fast enough.
"Is it important, Jack?" the man asked. He was as tall as Jack with strawberry blond hair and green eyes.
In some ways he appeared familiar, but Jack was sure that he had never met the man before. He would remember a face like that. Besides, as this was his future it stood to reason that he had not met him yet.
"I've got to go. Shindaii! Hai no Shindaii kun!"
Jack frowned, unable to place the language. That in itself was strange.
"There are no Shindaii, Jack," the other man said in a calming tone. "Come. Let's have something to eat."
"Out!" Jack screamed and ran into the door. Frantically he searched for a non existing handle. "Out! Let me out!"
"I could…" the man mused, "if you would not try and tear the other walls down, too. I can't let you go in this condition. I'm sorry, Jack."
Jack saw honest regret in the man's features and once again something triggered recognition in him even though he still was sure that he never saw him.
Finally Jack settled down beside the other man who opened the dish to reveal pasta with meatballs.
Jack noticed that, though the plate held a fork, there was no knife. And the food looked like it had aleady been cut up into smaller pieces…
"Here, Jack," he said, giving him the plastic fork. "The food you asked for." He sighed when he watched Jack take the first forkful. "This should never have happened to you. I should have been able to stop it. Let me take care of you now."
Jack ate, but it did not look as if he enjoyed his meal. He barely chewed and could hardly taste his food. Jack thought that his future self was only eating out of instinct.
The man put his arm around Jack's shoulders and rubbed gently his upper arm.
"I will help you, Jack. I promise you can trust me. I won't let you down again."
A soft vibration went through the room and low hums added comfort to the man's words. Jack could feel and hear them and suddenly he realized where he was and who he was watching.
"Doctor!" he gasped. "We're in the TARDIS!"
His stomach turned.
Jack had to get out of here. This future scared him. What had happened to him that he lost his marbles? Was it that he could not find rest? Was he exhausted by his long life? Did he lose it because he could not stand living when everyone he knew died around him?
Jack felt an overwhelming surge of claustrophobia. All he wanted was to get out. Out of the room, out of the TARDIS, out of this nightmare.
The Doctor passed him and the TARDIS unlocked the door for him. Jack darted out before the Doctor could make a step through. He ran through the corridors in search for the exit. When he found the console room he rushed over to the door and pulled it open.
Once out Jack did not care where he ran.
It was dark outside. Almost too dark. Jack stumbled, running so fast he was not bothering to check for obstacles in his path.
Good that we weren't in flight, he thought fleetingly, trying to travel through the vortex outside the TARDIS would be hell.
There was no sign of the damned Master. How was he supposed to get away from here?
Running.
Running.
Running.
Suddenly his foot stepped into emptiness. Jack was so startled he did not even try and stop himself. By the time he realised he probably should it was too late. He was already dropping like a stone.
Falling.
Falling.
Falling.
Jack screamed.
tbc…