"They respond to power, Jack."
Jack blinked.
He was standing in the wreckage of Torchwood Three again, near the bay. There was rubble everywhere, and it was daytime, although the streets were eerily quiet. The great crater of the Torchwood Hub yawned from the center, and smoke still curled up from its depths. Owen Harper was sitting on an upturned stone that looked like it might have been part of the sidewalk, once.
"I'm dreaming," Jack said, and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. The breeze from the bay was chilly, as it had always been, and he knew better than to question it. "Right. What responds to power?"
"Weevils." Owen hopped down from his perch and strode over. "They responded to me before I died."
"They did what?" Jack stared at his dead coworker as he approached in shock. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"I don't have to tell you everything," Owen sneered, coming to a stop and crossing his arms. "It's only from the kindness of my heart that I'm telling you now." His voice was mocking, and Jack rolled his eyes, exasperated but fond. Owen, for all his sarcasm, was a welcome sight.
"Well, I don't suppose I can fire you," Jack said wryly, and Owen snorted.
"Not bloody likely."
"When did they start?"
Owen cocked his head, thinking. "After that creepy fight club, when I got mauled. It bit me, and then I just knew." He shrugged.
"You think the bite had something to do with it?" Jack frowned and paced a little, very quickly, once back and forth. "Some kind of DNA transfer? But we never noticed till you died."
"Then it got more serious," Owen supplied. "Then they did it whether I wanted them to or not. Don't get me wrong, I have no bloody clue how to control them. But I know that they don't like you if you're an aggressor that they feel that they can't beat." He shrugged. "Who's the chick with the sword?"
Jack chuckled. "This gives a whole new meaning to watching over."
"Yeah. Well? I like her. And why the hell are you so jumpy?"
Jack sighed and sat down on a piece of rubble. "I'm tired of people dying, Owen."
"Oh, please," Owen sneered. "Don't give me that bullshit." Jack glared.
"You're really a pain in the ass, has anyone told you that?"
"Gwen, actually." Owen smirked. "Don't tell me you're giving up now, Harkness. You never give up." His voice was harsh, but there was that small hint of a little boy begging a superhero in him. It was so very Owen, all thick armor and sarcasm to hide the hurt beneath, that Jack couldn't help but smile a little.
"I'm not giving up. I'm just tired," Jack said. He scrubbed his face with his palm and then looked up at his coworker.
Owen sighed and sat down beside him. "Too many lives to save," the medic agreed regretfully. "It's never enough."
"No," Jack murmured. "It isn't."
The two men sat in silence, and watched the dream sun descend from the sky.
.
.
They left Pirate's Swoop bright and early, just as the sun was peaking over the horizon. Alanna, with a pointed glare to Daine and Numair, sent her husband and the king a messenger bird each, informing of their departure.
"We're not stopping in Corus," the Lioness growled as she mounted her horse, a beautiful creature called Darkmoon. "I absolutely refuse." She picked up the reins and the horse tossed its golden head, sending the dark mane streaming.
Jack took Red from a stable boy. "Why not?" he asked. He reached out to pat Red's dappled neck in greeting. "We'll need supplies by then." Red huffed gladly in his face and Jack smiled at him before tossing the reins over the horse's head and mounting up.
The Lioness glared and did not respond. Apparently she was not a morning person.
"There's a new page," Daine whispered when the King's Champion rode off in a huff. "The first girl, after Alanna. The king's forbade Alanna to get anywhere near her, for fear that it'll look like Alanna helped her through." She swung herself onto Cloud's back and Kitten's head poked up from a saddle bag. The dragon cheeped at Jack, and then the head went back down as she presumably went back to sleep.
"Oh," Jack replied, ignoring his chill at the sight of Kitten. He picked up his reins. "And I take it that she's not a morning person?"
"Not really, no," Numair agreed dryly, and nudged a long-suffering Spots into a clumsy trot. Daine rolled her eyes, following on Cloud.
"Numair, for Mithros' sake, would you sit straight? You're going to kill poor Spots' back at this rate," she scolded, but it was in good humor.
Jack sighed and looked down at Red's neck. Someone had groomed him. The dappled gelding's hair fairly shone in the early sunlight. "What d'you say, my friend," Jack asked, "should we follow them, or run off into the woods?"
Red huffed and answered him by picking up a trot and following Cloud.
"Yeah, alright," Jack muttered. "It was just a thought."
Red snorted, clearly not amused.
.
.
Pirate's Swoop was an eight day ride from Corus at a slow pace, although one could make it in four, if one rushed. There wasn't much of a rush, but dawdling could prove disastrous if what Jack said about weevils was true, so they moved at a reasonable clip.
The first night, they had all gathered around a fire, cooking three fish on a spit. Kitten was sitting at Jack's feet, playing with small stones. Numair watched their friend keenly. Daine had mentioned Jack's odd response to Kit, and now that he was paying attention he could see it. The man leaned away from the dragon, just a little bit, and while he seemed relaxed enough there was something odd about the look in his eyes.
"Hold on, you've lost me," Jack was saying. "I thought the Immortals weren't imprisoned."
"Not anymore," Alanna explained, leaning over to turn the spits. "They used to be. These are almost done, by the way," she added, indicating the fish.
"Good," Numair muttered, "I'm hungry. Anyway, a few years ago, the Emperor of Carthak had the Barrier between the Divine Realms and our realms lowered," he told Jack. "It released them, and started the Immortals War."
Jack looked thoughtful. "A Barrier?"
"It trapped them in the Realms of the Gods," Daine explained, and pulled up the spit to examine the fish. "When the Barrier lowered, a lot of them came here. Actually, Numair, I think these are ready," she added, turning to look at him.
Numair peered over to examine the fish, wrapping an arm around her waist and setting his chin on her shoulder. She smiled up at him and shrugged. He moved away with a small smile at her and shrugged back. "Looks fine to me, sweet," he said, and lifted the spit off the fire.
"Must've been chaos," Jack said. There was an odd note in his voice at Numair's casual display of affection. Numair glanced over at the man, who pulled a knife from his pocket and offered it to Daine so she could cut the fish. She smiled at him and held up her own.
"It very nearly was," Numair replied softly. He and Daine exchanged a glance. There wasn't really any harm in telling Jack about Uusoae, the Queen of Chaos, almost breaking through into the mortal realms, but it was an uncomfortable topic. Jack, however, did them a favor and added thoughtfully, "Could you create such a barrier, Numair?"
The mage frowned, distracted from his musings on Jack's odd expression. Was he strong enough to do such a thing? Not alone, certainly. If he had the right tools, perhaps, and the right help and the right books—he didn't know the spell, although they had studied it in Carthak when he had been a student there. "Yes," Numair said when he realized that Jack was looking at him expectantly and Alanna had rolled her eyes, "but I'd need help, and then I'd probably be sick for days. You're thinking about the Gates, aren't you?"
"Yeah," Jack murmured. "I'm thinking we could use you to close them. I can probably find some way to get you extra power, if you needed it. Still, I'd rather just find your Guardian, because I'd like to be able to leave after I'm done here." He scowled for a second, tapping a finger into the grass. "If I had access to a computer—I'm useless in this timeframe." Kitten chattered at him, scolding. Jack sent her a wry smile.
"Access to a what?" Alanna asked, reaching to help Daine cut the fish. Numair looked at Jack with interest. Alanna had stolen the question before he could say it.
"A—never mind." Jack sighed reluctantly. "They're hard to explain. A device that can crunch numbers rapidly, although they can do more than that." He looked thoughtful for a moment, but then shrugged. "I don't have any way to get one, though."
"Could you build one?" Daine asked. She handed Numair his dinner before tucking into her own, passing pieces to her dragon.
"Don't have the parts," Jack replied. Numair wondered briefly what kind of parts that Jack could need, but Alanna interrupted before he could ask.
"How could you get Numair extra power? You're not going to steal it, are you?" Her voice had taken an ominous tone and Numair frowned, confused, at her tension.
"No," Jack said. "I told you I made a bargain with the badger. I can just ask for it. Your gods are willing to provide help, should we need it. It is their Gate, after all."
Numair stared at him in shock. "You—have the favor of the gods," he said disbelievingly. "All of them?"
Jack shrugged, apparently not appreciating the fact that he had the favor of all the gods, or understanding what that entailed. Whatever the reason, his voice was very offhand when he said, "they want their Gate closed. It's the only reason that they let me stay. Frankly, if they'd asked me to leave, I'd've done that as well. But I have—a good history, with this sort of thing," he added darkly. Numair, distracted again, blinked at his tone. Never mind that he apparently did not realize the sort of power he had with the favor of the gods—how could anyone possibly have experience with open Gates?
"You do?" Daine asked. Numair smiled at her. She took the question straight from his lips.
"I worked on a rift in time and space," Jack muttered quietly, looking down at his plate. He poked his fish. "Things from other places just bled through. That's how we got the weevils, although I have no idea how they got here."
"A rift in time and space," Numair repeated wonderingly. Kit whistled very softly, eyes fixed on Jack. Her scales had turned gray-edged, but Numair hardly noticed, mind lost in the implications of Jack's statement.
"What does that even mean?" Alanna demanded.
"A crack," Numair said softly, amazed, "Right? A crack in time?"
Jack nodded without speaking, and began to eat, eyes downcast.
"That must've been fair confusing," Daine put in, "if you had things from other eras appearing and disappearing." That was his Daine, Numair thought, affection for her swelling in his chest. Always practical.
Jack didn't respond for a moment, but then he said slowly, reluctantly, "It was more like an ocean. Like tides coming in and out, bringing things and taking them away, although not nearly as regular."
"Is that why you left?" Alanna asked gently. "Were you swept away?"
Jack's head snapped up and his heated reply was filled with more self-loathing than Numair had imagined that this quiet man contained. "Everyone died. I couldn't stay." He got up, putting his plate aside. "Thanks for dinner, Daine. I need some air." Jack strode off into the night.
"Jack!" Daine stood, startled. "You can't go walking at night! It's dangerous—"
"I'll be fine," Jack snapped.
"At least let one of us come with you," Numair put in, concerned at the man's sudden withdrawal, rising as well. Kitten whistled in agreement.
"No." Jack's voice was firm and he turned, striding purposefully into the forest.
Daine glared after him. "I'll follow him."
"Magelet—" Numair started in alarm, but he was too late. An opossum was wriggling out if Daine's clothes and scampering after Jack. Kit chattered at Daine, scolding. Her gray edged scales had turned pink with alarm. She made to go after Daine, but Numair grabbed her.
"Watch her, Alanna," Numair said, moving to hand the struggling dragon over. There was no way he'd let Daine wander the forest alone at night, never mind that every animal would wake and defend at her, should she need it.
"Let Daine go, Numair," Alanna told him softly, gripping his arm. She pushed Kit back into Numair's embrace.
"Are you serious?" Numair demanded, furious and worried, "Do you have any idea how much trouble she can get in, out there alone?" Kit chattered in agreement, struggling in his arms. He clutched her tighter and she shrilled in protest.
Alanna squeezed his shoulder. "She'll be fine. Jack's the one that needs the help; he doesn't know what's out there."
"Don't tell me you're not worried," Numair snapped, pacing back and forth, clutching Kitten tighter still. The dragon squeaked and gave up protesting, instead muttering indignantly at the treatment.
"Of course I'm worried," the Lioness growled, "But the more of us that go out there, the less of us there will be here to get them out of trouble when they get hurt."
Numair sighed. "I suppose you're right." He put Kit down and sat, head in his hands, beside Alanna. The dragon sighed in relief and looked wistfully out into the woods. "Don't you dare," Numair told her darkly. "I stay, you stay. Daine'll never forgive me if you go." The dragon huffed and sat beside him sullenly. There was a silence.
"He's hurting," Alanna stated the obvious after a moment. She did not need to specify.
"Yes," Numair agreed with a sigh. "That's one of the reasons Daine and I took him in. I think he loved this place where he worked." He glanced over at her.
"And everyone died," she murmured. "How horrible."
"Yes," Numair replied, thinking of the morning that he and Daine were roused out of bed because Jack was shouting to Gainel, furious and miserable because he had dreamed of a dead man. "I think it was horrible."