Author's note: in this section, I will be switching back and forth between POVs at a more rapid pace; I like to do that in my fics sometimes, particularly when the action starts to get amped up. It's sort of like switching back and forth between camera angles. I'm warning you ahead of time, because I'm not going to label the sections; just know that when there is a page break, it means we're switching POVs (sometimes mid-action).

Otherwise, please enjoy...

Chapter 13: Immortal Questions

Edinburgh, Scotland, Present Day

The plaintive squeak of the antique lift echoed eerily through the empty hallway. Nothing. There was no one. Just the lift, going up and down of its own volition. Someone had tampered with it. Set the controls to keep it in constant motion. Will watched the dim amber lighting of the hall as it filtered through the rustic metal grill of the cage, casting a shadowy spiderweb over the walls. Watched it as it came back down once again, its inside empty of passengers. Angrily, he went around to the main control box, flipped back the lid and punched the switch. He watched as the elevator stilled, heard it go silent once more. Will's eyes flicked back and forth suspiciously down the empty corridor. He had a notion that he'd been tricked.

The Doctor, he thought. He's up to something. The man had somehow managed to tamper with both the lift and the sprinkler system, like some kind of mischievous gremlin on a vengeful rampage. Well, thought Will, fiddling around with the machinery won't be enough... He reached around, took out the stolen revolver and cocked it, and began to stealthily make his way back toward the room they were using as Harkness's holding cell. His eyes were frosty as he crept purposefully back down the hall. You'll be sorry if the two of us meet now, he thought. I tried to make you leave us alone; I tried to make you stay away. But since you refuse to do that, then I'll just have to-

The sound of running footfalls came pounding from around the corner. Louder, closer. Will froze; he aimed the gun in preparation. You'll be sorry that you ever dared to interfere in this. He narrowed his eyes over the sight in readiness, his heart drumming in time with the footsteps. Louder, closer. A dark figure rounded the corner in a blur, and Will almost squeezed the trigger, but stopped at the last moment when he saw who it was.

Robert. Out of breath and clutching the mystical glove, which was out of its case. He slid to a stop in front of Will and panted, "It's him! The bloody Doctor! He-he tried to strangle me! Tried to take the glove..."

"What?"

"We have to go now."

"Go? What? No! We stay and finish this. He's only one man-"

"-that is no man. I'm not sure what he is, but he's not human. Otherwise, why would earth need to defend itself from him?"

Will didn't argue with Robert's logic. Robert was brilliant, gifted. If he said the Doctor wasn't human, then he wasn't human-plain and simple. "Alright, but what do we do? Double back through the tunnel to the bridge?"

"No. Too risky." Robert lifted a hand to Will's new face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his voice unusually soft as he spoke. "We can't risk having another...accident because of that thing down in the vaults. I won't do it. I won't risk you again." Robert dropped his hand and his expression grew steely, bitter. "Damn Albert Ferguson and his lack of disclosure. For mentioning some form of alien tech down there in his notes, but then leaving out the rest of it. The secretive bastard. I'd kill him all over again if I could."

Will's eyes flicked down to the glove. "It was his interest in alien tech that got him killed in the first place."

Robert smiled a devious smile and stroked the prized glove lovingly. "Yes, he was unable to resist this, and he fell right into our little trap. The same thing with Harkness. These Torchwood people-always letting their curiosity get the better of them. It's a wonder any of them are still alive."

"So what do we do about the Doctor?"

Robert began striding toward the lift, and Will dutifully followed behind him. "Nothing for now. Right now, we just need to get away from here. Harkness is going to wake up, and when he does..." Robert paused to gaze long and hard at Will who went around to restore power back to the lift. Their eyes met through the diamond pattern of the elevator's metal skeleton.

"...and when he does, I imagine he's going to want back the thing that I stole from him."

"That fucking bastard! He's not going to get away with this..."

Jack's jaw was set in a rigid, angry line as he stalked away from the medical bay, away from the scathing, overwhelming evidence of his own failure. I'm sorry, Ianto, he thought miserably. I promised I'd protect you, but I failed. I failed, and now I have to make this right. The Doctor dogged his steps, his repeated mantra of "Jack you need to calm down" falling on deaf ears. Jack kept on walking, his icy gaze staring straight forward, seeing nothing, nothing but the unmoving body on the bed..

Sorry...so, so sorry.

"Jack, I'm so sorry to bother you in the midst of what the westerners like to call a 'God almighty hissy fit,' but have you by chance actually taken a moment to come up with some plan of action?"

"No." His response: flat, stony, lifeless.

"I see. Lovely. Now, would you care to, oh, I don't know, stop and maybe-possibly-sorta try to reason this out?"

"No." Again: flat, stony, lifeless.

"I see. Lovely." Jack kept marching; the Doctor kept following. "So we're just going to go after the two of them unarmed and unprepared?" Jack paused to check the inside of his coat; his revolver was missing. "Shit," he said. He turned to the Doctor. "What do you have on you?"

"Me? Besides a very threatening sock monkey, I have one sonic screwdriver, a yo-yo, a TARDIS key, a pair of souvenir sunglasses from Pen Haxico 2. Oh, and a bag of rather ancient jelly babies that I think were misappropriated to the wrong coat in the TARDIS wardrobe."

"So you got nothing."

"I got nothing."

Jack rolled his eyes and continued to stride purposefully forward until he came to the entrance of Albert's control room. Jack pushed the door in and went straight over to the wall with the TV monitors. He found the keyboard on the metal workstation and rewound the CCTV tape for the various cameras. Jack's eyes flitted across the screens like a butterfly, searching desperately for some sort of clue. Screen one: nothing. Screen two: nothing. Screen three: nothing. Screen four: Ha! Yes! There! Jack's gaze halted on the monitor that showed the entrance of Covenanter's Prison. He watched the playback footage, watched as both Albert and the false Ianto walked into the frame. Watched as the two of them went-with the glove in tow-out the wrought iron gate. Jack glanced at the time on the monitor. Just five minutes ago. They could still catch them; they still had a chance! Jack whirled around, grabbed the Doctor's elbow and said,

"They're leaving Greyfriars. C'mon, we've got to catch them!"

The chill of the night air bit into Will's skin as he and Robert picked their way through the cemetery's headstones, as they ducked beneath the darkened, outstretched limbs of the low-hanging trees. In the background, over the kirkyard's back wall, Will could see the massive stone structure of Edinburgh castle, its ancient walls lit from below, like something magical from a child's dream. The castle had always been there; it had always looked like this. The kirkyard, the church, had always looked like this. For nearly two-hundred years, these things had remained, constant, frozen like insects in amber. All frozen in time. It was strange, how little the Old Town had changed over the last two centuries. Strange how familiar, how unchanging, this view was.

Strange how Will never tired of it.

"Do you think we should leave the city?" he asked.

"Maybe," replied Robert distractedly. "Let's just get to the church. I have some things stashed there, for emergencies." Will smiled. Leave it to Robert to be prepared like this; the man thought of everything. He truly was brilliant. And it was due to his brilliance that Will had remained alive for so long. After a few moments, Will felt a random pang of guilt strike his conscience.

"I'm sorry," Will said suddenly.

"Sorry for what?"

"Sorry for losing Harkness. I was stupid, and we lost him. He was meant for you; he was going to be your prize. Your ultimate goal of immortality."

"Forget about it, Will. I was just as stupid." Robert stopped and turned; he placed his hand, the one not clutching the glove, on his shoulder. "At least I have you back. Fit, and in a new body. That's the important part. So don't feel guilty." Will, as usual, warmed to Robert's sensible words. In the semi-darkness, the lenses of his glasses flashed like diamond facets as he leaned in towards him and-

"Hey! You! Don't you even think about slipping him the tongue, 'cause I will pound your goddam head into one of these tombstones, I swear!"

Will and Robert looked up, startled, to see Harkness coming towards them from the direction of Covenanter's Prison, with the Doctor not too far behind. Will's mouth dropped open, and his eyes grew wide. He felt Robert tugging his elbow, pulling him, his voice low and urgent as he commanded:

"Inside the church! Now!"

Jack watched as Albert and the false Ianto fled through the church's arched doorway. If he thought he was enraged before, he was truly livid now. The sight of that man-whoever he was-putting his hands on Ianto's body had sent him into a fury. Don't you dare touch him! He's mine! It didn't matter that it wasn't really Ianto inside of it. That body belonged to the man he loved, and he was going to get it back! And he didn't want anyone else laying his filthy hands on it in the meantime!

The man he loved?

Jack was surprised by that thought, surprised as it flitted, unbidden, through the echoing caverns of his mind. The phrase had assembled itself, had alchemized from the neurons of his brain without any conscious forethought. It had simply appeared. But now that he was thinking it, he couldn't stop. Couldn't stop thinking about how intense his emotions were, how guilty he felt for kissing the Doctor in the lift, how miserable he felt for failing to keep Ianto safe. How enraged he felt at the thought of anyone else touching him. These feelings were all connected to one thing: there was only one single emotion powerful enough to produce this level of misery. Or elation. Only one...

Love.

Jack raced up the steps of the church and threw open the double doors. He ignored the calls of "Jack, wait!" from the Doctor. He rushed, instead, headlong through the front atrium, straight down the main aisle between the wooden pews. He jogged to a stop in the center of the aisle, halting because of the sight that greeted him.

Ianto-or whoever it was inside of him-stood before the main altar, a blaze of candles from behind him casting a golden glow around his frame. His beautiful blue eyes were icy cold as he lifted and pointed Jack's own revolver squarely at his chest. Even with a gun in his hand, even with a murderous scowl on his face, Jack still thought he was the most gorgeous man he had ever seen.

"Stop following us. Stop following us, or something terrible will happen." The sound of Ianto's voice echoed through the church. His Ianto's voice. Spewing out such hateful words.

"You know I can't," said Jack stonily, standing with his feet planted and head lifted. "You stole something from me, and I intend to get it back."

"Get it back how? What are you going to do to me, Captain Harkness? Are you going to drag me out of this church, manhandle me back to the hub-"

"-If I have to."

"Really? You could do that? You could get violent...with this body?" A slight smirk twisted the other Ianto's face as he slowly began to edge his way down from the altar.

"Why are you pointing that gun at me? Even if you shot and killed me, I wouldn't stay dead-"

"-oh, I'm not pointing it at you." There was only a second for Jack to react, only a second for him to turn and hurl himself at the figure standing behind him. "Doctor look out!" The shot went off, and Jack felt the bullet pierce his back, felt it burrow through his flesh. Pain burned like wildfire through his body, as he toppled forward onto the man he was trying to protect.

"Fool. You deserve that. For betraying the one who used to live in this body with him. You're a faithless bastard who doesn't know what love is..." The words faded out into nothingness as Jack felt himself sucked down, as he was dragged, unwillingly, into death's dark abyss. He was falling, falling. Down, then up. Through a wall of fire. Through a wall of pain. It was dark, and everything hurt, and he was being pulled, blindly, through the nothingness. Up, up, he was going up. Up, and then-

-consciousness returned as Jack was violently slammed back inside his own body. He was lying awkwardly, sprawled face down, on something that was moving. Another body. Then he remembered. He had fallen on the Doctor. He had thrown himself in front of him, had taken a bullet, and had collapsed on top of him.

"Get up you." Jack didn't raise his head, didn't move as Albert's rough voice cut through the aisle. "I said, get up." And suddenly, the Doctor was being pulled out from under him, away from him. Still, Jack did not move. He listened, he remained as still as the statue of the virgin on the altar, as Albert kept talking. "You missed, Will. That's alright, though. I'm more than glad to take care of this one."

"I didn't miss; Harkness threw himself in front of him." Ianto's voice, so close by. A shadow passed over Jack, there was the gentle whisper of footsteps by his ear. Jack tensed, and then, without warning, he reached out-

-and Will fell forward as Harkness reached out and grabbed his ankle. He landed face first in the aisle, and he felt the captain's hands clawing at him, dragging him back. Felt his fingers closing over the hand which held the gun. The two of them struggled, fought. Will was surprised when Harkness punched him the jaw; he had honestly believed that he didn't have it in him to do it, that he would be unable to hurt this shell. Apparently, he was wrong. Will fell back, landing hard in the aisle, losing his grip on the gun in the process. He felt a pair of arms close around his neck, felt the harsh press of cold metal against his temple.

"Drop the gun," he heard Harkness say next to his ear. He was horrified to find a gun aimed at his head. They were a mirror to Robert and the Doctor; Robert had a gun raised and pressed to the Doctor's temple. The air was tense, fraught with with explosive emotion. Jack spoke again: "I said, drop the gun!"

"You drop your gun. Or I'll shoot him in the head."

"I'll shoot him in the head," Will heard Harkness say above him. The captain tightened the chokehold he had around his neck for emphasis. Will couldn't believe his ears, couldn't believe what was happening.

"You wouldn't dare," hissed Robert.

"Wouldn't I?"

"No."

"Try me. This isn't really Ianto, you know. If I shoot this body, it wouldn't really be Ianto dying. It would be whoever's in here." A pause. "Just who are you people anyway?"

Will watched Robert's jaw clench in tense anger. "Dr. Robert Knox."

"From the front of that newspaper?" squeaked the Doctor under him. "From the Burke and Hare trial?"

A moment of silence. Then: "Yes."

The Doctor mumbled something about body snatchers and resurrectionists before Robert tightened his grip on his neck, choking off his words. Then Harkness laughed a mirthless laugh and said, "Well, this gives a whole new meaning to the word..."

"Just shut up and drop your weapon!"

"Drop yours!"

"Don't think I won't shoot him; I will do it!"

"Jack, this is crazy!"

"Robert!"

"Doctor, I hope you're not too attached to this new look of yours."

"Oh, it's quite alright Jack. I'm still not ginger, you know."

"What the hell are you two talking about?"

"If you shoot him, he won't stay dead either. He's not human, you know."

Silence.

"You're an anatomist, can't you hear two heartbeats?"

"Put. That. Gun. Down. Now."

"No."

"Robert, I think he means it."

"Will, be quiet."

"Jack, I think you-"

"Shut up!"

"Put it down-"

"No, you!"

"You!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

The sound of gunfire reverberated off the church's cavernous vaulted ceiling; it filled the narrow nave, slicing through the silence. The candles on the altar flickered and burned; the stained glass windows glowed, their panels filling the space with bold, brilliant color. The statue of the virgin looked on, her head bowed in silent solemnity. A dream-like stillness overtook the church, and as the final echoes of the fired shots faded, only a cold, dreadful silence remained.

And of the four figures in the center aisle, two of them were lying on the floor, dead.

End Chapter 13.

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