Author's Notes:
No - I haven't forgotten this story, and I apologise sincerely for the lack of updates, and for the shortness of this chapter given the length of time since the last update.
My muse got severely side-tracked. We are attempting to get back on board with this story, and the next chapter shouldn't be too far away. (And by that I mean days, not months - I swear it!) Until then, though, I offer this short interlude to assure everyone I am still working on this.
Yes, more angst for Jack, I'm afraid....
"So… how, exactly, do you know Jack?" Kathy asked as she came to stand beside the Doctor who, in turn, was thoroughly engrossed in examining an oddly shaped piece of metal that seemed to change colour depending on which way you turned it.
"Hmm?" he said distractedly. She eyed him critically, not entirely sure whether he honestly wasn't paying attention, or whether it was a pathetic attempt to brush off a question that he simply didn't want to answer. She tried again, speaking a fraction louder just in case he did happen to be hard of hearing.
"I said, how do you know Jack?"
He straightened up, then, and turned to at her directly, with one eyebrow raised slightly more than the other.
"It's complicated."
She couldn't quite help the wry smile that quirked her lips.
"Everything about Captain Harkness seems to be complicated. When I first met him, he was a pain in the arse, and nothing much has changed."
It was the Doctor's turn to smile wryly.
"Oh, he can be that. He is a good man, though."
Kathy conceded with a nod.
"Yes. He is certainly that. You haven't answered my question, though..." She paused as he gave her a sidelong look before going back to the colour-changing metal. "And somehow I don't think you're going to, are you?"
Again, the Doctor paused in his examinations to regard her carefully.
"I met Jack in the past, lost him in the future, and found him again in the present."
Kathy grimaced at the deliberately vague answer.
"Fine. You could have just said you didn't want to talk about it. I was just hoping that someone here could help me to understand him a bit better, because right now I don't. I don't even know what to believe about everything they've told me about him. I mean, this rubbish about him not being able to die..."
"Oh, he can die," the Doctor answered passively. "He just doesn't stay dead for very long."
She rubbed at her eyes in exasperation.
"You too? I've already heard that from Mr Jones and Dr Harper."
"And you still don't believe it," the Doctor concluded.
"Please! How can you honestly expect me to believe a story like that? You're basically saying that Jack is immortal!"
The Doctor said nothing, but raised an eyebrow again. Kathy shook her head fiercely.
"No. No, it's insane. I can't believe it."
"And yet, you know how severely Jack was injured in the attack," the Doctor persisted. "You saw him with your own eyes, didn't you?"
She swallowed hard.
"I was called to the crime scene," she admitted in a low voice after glancing around surreptitiously to ensure that Jack was nowhere nearby to overhear the conversation. "They hadn't been able to get him out when I got there. I honestly thought he was going to die. I'm still amazed that he didn't."
"Mm," the Doctor mused. "He might think it would have been better if he had died. It would certainly have meant a quicker recovery time."
"You really believe it?" Kathy asked incredulously. The Doctor regarded her soberly.
"I was there on the satellite in the year Two Hundred-One Hundred when Jack was made immortal, Detective. I assure you that there is nothing imagined about it."
"The year when? No, don't answer that. I don't want to know."
The Doctor didn't even try to stop the grin that spread over his face.
"No, you probably don't. I'm a Time Lord, and Jack's timeline gives me a headache. But it is true, that's he's immortal. Well, when I say immortal, I mean that comparatively speaking. But basically, he can't die, not permanently. I hope you never have to actually witness it, though. It's not a pleasant sight."
"Because I'm wrong?"
Both the Doctor and Kathy turned sharply at the unexpected voice behind them. Jack stood there, wearing clean clothes and his hair still damp from showering. He was smiling, but it was a brittle sight, and his tone lacked any warmth to suggest he was just kidding. Kathy couldn't help wincing at the sight, but the Doctor didn't hesitate to respond. Neither advancing nor retreating, he looked Jack directly in the eye as he spoke.
"No, not because you're wrong, Jack. Because I know full well that reviving is just as painful for you as dying, and I hate seeing you suffer."
Jack's expression relaxed just a fraction, and the Doctor felt a wave of relief wash through him. So often, he seemed to blurt out the wrong things at the wrong moment. He was grateful that, this time at least, he seemed to have gotten it right for once.
"Ready to continue, Captain?"
In answer, Jack turned to stare down Kathy.
"How soon will the scene be cleared?"
The detective stared back at him, confused by the odd question.
"What do you mean?"
"The scene," Jack repeated. His voice rose just a fraction in volume, betraying his agitation to all those within hearing range. "The crime scene where I… where they…"
"Where Kendle died?" she said quietly. Jack nodded mutely. Kathy glanced around to see the rest of the Torchwood team approaching slowly, identical looks of concern on each of their faces. She could sympathise. She felt the exact same concern.
"Probably by this evening," she admitted. "But…"
"We're going to check it out as soon as all the police are gone," Jack announced in a tone that brooked no argument. Owen, however, had never been one to shie away from an argument.
"Jack, that's a fucking stupid thing to do, and you bloody well know it."
Jack glared right back at Owen, and folded his arms across his chest imposingly.
"And why is that, Owen? Because I'm not in my right mind? Because I might freak out or have a break down?"
Owen took a slight step forward.
"Because there is absolutely nothing we can learn by going there, Jack. You know it's the truth."
Jack was unrelenting, though.
"We're going. That's final." He turned back to Kathy, and it was all she could do not to cringe away from the near wild look in his eyes. "I want to know when it's clear."
She nodded, agreeing automatically, despite her quiet belief that Owen was right. Jack was walking on a razor edge right then, and she was determined that she would not be the one to push him over the edge.
"I'll let you know as soon as I hear."
Nodding his satisfaction, Jack turned to head for his office, only to nearly run headlong into the Doctor.
"What?" Jack growled uncomfortably. The Doctor eyed him critically for a long moment before speaking.
"I'll support whatever decisions you make, Jack, but are you sure it's the right choice for you to be going back to the place where you were attacked?"
"I was attacked outside the Griffin Arms Pub."
"Semantics, Jack. You know what I mean."
Dropping his gaze, Jack stepped swiftly around the Doctor.
"We're going there tonight. That's final."
"Jack…"
The Captain didn't look up as he practically threw himself into the chair behind his desk and began to rifle through the growing pile of paperwork.
"Leave me alone, Ianto. I don't need you arguing with me, too."
Ianto didn't leave, and instead ventured further into the office. His gaze was fixed on the mess Jack was making in his futile attempt to look occupied.
"Jack, please, just stop…"
Jack tensed briefly before slapping his hands down on the desk in frustration and finally looking up at the younger man. Aggravation radiated out from him in waves, and Ianto could feel it coming off him like heat.
"What? What is it? Are you going to tell me it's a stupid idea, too? Because if you are, I don't want to hear it. I've made up my mind…"
"I'm not here to argue with you," Ianto countered. "Don't get defensive on me, Jack."
"Then what? What do you want?"
Ianto sat carefully on the corner of the desk, taking care to maintain a respectable distance without appearing too aloof.
"Is it too hard for you to accept that we're concerned about you?" he asked simply. "Because we are. It's not nothing to do with trying to put limitations on you, if that's what you're thinking."
Jack glowered at him, feeling the anger rising up yet again.
"You couldn't possibly know what I'm thinking."
"That's the point, though, isn't it?" Ianto said. "I can't know, because you aren't talking to me. You're just yelling and snarling at me… and yes, I know I deserve it. I don't deny that. But please, Jack. For your own sake, won't you try and just talk to me?"
For nearly a minute, the two men simply stared at each other. Jack glowered, while Ianto maintained an admirably placid expression. Finally, Jack broke first and his shoulders slumped heavily in defeat.
"Owen thinks I'm being unfair to you."
Ianto said nothing in answer to that. The truth was that he'd overheard that snippet of Jack's conversation with Owen, and he knew Jack's tired, confused mind was warping nearly every conversation. He knew damned well that there would be no point in trying to correct him.
"I don't want to be angry at you. I just can't help it. I can't stop myself from feeling like this."
"Which is why I think you're right in wanting to go tonight," Ianto said quietly. Jack blinked at him, startled and not entirely certain that he'd heard correctly.
"You… You're agreeing with me?"
"Yes," Ianto confirmed. "I believe I am. I'm not so sure I'm in agreement with the timing, but I don't blame you for wanting to go. You need to face these demons. I can understand that, and I've got no right to dictate to you over it. So yes, I'm supporting you, whether the others agree or not."
The relief on Jack's face was palpable.
"Thankyou."
"Just promise me one thing," Ianto asked, and Jack suddenly tensed again. The Welshman smile sadly, and risked reaching out to touch Jack's shoulder. He felt the slight shudder of the muscles beneath the flesh as Jack flinched involuntarily, and quietly withdrew his hand.
"What?" Jack asked.
Though there was still tension in his posture and in his voice, Ianto also read compliance there. He'd made that effort to exert his somewhat tenuous influence, and Ianto had conceded. It was, they both realised, all Jack wanted — to have someone see the situation from his perspective. The others were concerned about him, and as much as Jack understood and appreciated that, it wasn't what he wanted or needed right then.
"If I tell you I think you need to back off, or if I think it's all getting to be a bit too much for you, please listen to me."
Jack felt a swift burst of anger. He wanted to argue. He wanted to yell at Ianto and tell him that he was perfectly capable of setting his own limits, thankyou very much. The anger dimmed, though, as he took in Ianto's expression; silently pleading with him to trust someone else to do the right thing by him for once.
With reluctance — extreme reluctance and a very tangible fear — Jack conceded.
to be continued...