Summary: Technically a flashback/set before chapter 1: The Doctor calls Jack and asks for his help.

Where?

He doesn't know how it happened. What caused everything to go sideways—well, sideways, upside down, inside out… He was in the control room—that much he remembers—but the Doctor otherwise had no recollection of the events leading up to the crash; which alone scared him more than the aftermath. But right now, all he could think about was the aftermath (which was technically the present).

He somehow made it to the door of the TARDIS, through the smoke, and the debris, barely recognizing his own pain; especially when it was being drowned out by the ship's. But he made it out and collapsed almost instantaneously to the ground, sucking in huge lungfuls of clean air.

He checked himself out first—basically by just making sure he had all his limbs in one place—before walking around his box to make sure there weren't any gaping holes in her either. When he circled back to the front he let out a shaky breath, then another one, and when he felt he was about to cry he turned away and started toward what looked like a normally-busy road. He didn't want to leave her, but what use was he if they just sat there together? At least this way he could go find help.

Help. He stopped mid-step. Who would help? He didn't know where or when he was, and even if he did, who could he call? Sarah Jane had her own life, and he wasn't about to pop in on it again, not when she had finally moved on. He could call Martha, but she left him, and she wouldn't really know what to do anyway. But who else was there?

Jack. Jack would know what to do. Plus he had the resources (even if it is Torchwood), and he would be willing to help. Probably. Maybe.

The Doctor dug around in his pockets for the cell phone Martha had given him, and when he looked through the contacts, he just about sighed in relief that Jack's number was actually in it. Had he done that? He couldn't remember... He should have been able to remember. Anyway, whoever did was brilliant! The Doctor pressed "call" and waited. And waited. And waited. He grew more anxious as the phone kept ringing, but belatedly remembered that it was 3:30 in the morning, and humans do need to sleep…

But Jack picked up. Jack picked up with a partly pissed-off and slightly still asleep answer of "What!" but the Doctor loved him for it. What he didn't love, however, was that he had no words for all that he had to say. His throat had closed up, and he suddenly realized his face was wet with what must have been blood—he would have known if he were crying. Right? "Hello?" Oh, right, Jack.

"Jack, it's me; it's the Doctor."

He could hear him through the phone, the immediate jolt upright and a soft complaint from whomever he was sleeping with that night. "Doctor?" His voice got fuzzy as he moved the phone away from his mouth to look at the number again. "How'd you even get this number? Oh, right, the TARDIS, stupid question, nevermind." The Doctor gave out what sounded like a strangled sob from the other end of the line and Jack froze—that couldn't have been a sob, not coming from the Doctor. Not the one he knew. "Doctor, are you alright?"

There was a long pause before, "Jack, please, I need you. The TARDIS—I don't know, I think the TARDIS is dead. Jack, I can't feel her anymore, and we crashed somewhere, and I don't know what to do." And then Jack could understand that foreign noise that came from the Doctor: the pure anguish and agony of yet another tragedy. He closed his eyes, partly because he had just woken up, mostly because he could practically feel the tension and misery radiating off of the Doctor through the phone.

"It's going to be okay, Doc. Do you know where you are? I'll come pick you up."

"Not really, I'm in a field heading towards a road…" He trailed off momentarily. "A470?"

"Okay, that's good; at least you're in Wales, that narrows it down," (barely) "What else do you see?"

"There's a sign," he said, and then went quiet. "Brecon Beacons Food Festival, October 1st…" he suddenly trailed off and became all but silent. Finally, "2008. Jack…when am I?"

He sounded like a child, like a boy who was lost and looking for his parents. Jack tried to swallow, but there wasn't anything to go down, "Friday, July 18th, 2008. 3:42am. Doc, is there anything else around you?"

"There's a building, I think." He was so absorbed in everything else he didn't even notice it in the dim lighting. "Hang on, there's a sign by its driveway: 'Libanus URC Church,'" he read.

"Okay, I think I know where you are. Will you stay there? Doc, I'll help you find the TARDIS again when I get there, but it'll probably take me at least an hour…"

"Yeah, I'll stay here."

Jack sighed and closed his eyes in relief. While he knew the Doctor would rather go back to his ship, it would only make him harder to find. "Thank you. I'll be there in a little while, okay? Why don't you see if the church is open? Most usually are, and it rained nearly every day this week so it's been getting cool outside."

"Okay."

He sounded resigned; he sounded tired; he sounded old; and it pained Jack to know there was nothing he could do about it. Yet. "I promise, I'll be there as fast as I can."

"Jack… Thank you," was all he heard before the line went dead.

~•~

"Shit."

"What's wrong?" Ianto mumbled into his pillow.

"I don't know… But I really have to take care of this, so I'll see you in a little while. And don't think this means you can ditch work," Jack added with a small smile as he kissed him on the cheek.

"What? Never."

"Good boy," he joked back, before sobering immediately and throwing on his clothes.

He got into his car, had the keys 2 inches from the ignition, and stopped. "Oh, yeah, the TARDIS... Okay, roughly 4x4x8?" He asked himself, squinting in concentration. He glanced behind him at the back seat, then swore when he realized there was no way any vehicle he had was going to be able to comfortably transport it. He shook his head and started the ignition anyway; they would solve it later, but right now he had to get to the Doctor.

The drive was long. Or short. Jack supposes that it really depends on the occasion. Technically he somehow managed to cut a 50 minute drive down to a 30 minute one, but it still felt like hours before he finally found the area the Doctor described. He scanned the empty fields as he drove towards the church, hoping to glimpse the TARDIS on the way in. But there was nothing, and Jack started to really worry where, why, how, and how bad this crash actually was.

A/N:

1. I'm working solely off of Google Maps here, so if I screwed something up, call me on it. Please. (plus, besides the fact that I'm working on foreign soil [haha see what I did there? Sorry, stupid pun], I suck at geography in general lol)

2. I'm not really sure where Ianto lives (or if we as the audience do) so call me on little details like that too.