Lara's back, which means good things for this tic. I have up as far as Chapter Fifteen written and ready to be beta-ed and then published, so hopefully that happens soon.

Thanks to Lara, ofc (theraggedyblog on tumblr incase you've forgotten), and my dear reviewers, followers and favourites.

Chapter Nine

The house was unusually quiet, on that morning in particular. Luke was in a different country (technically), Rhys had left at six o'clock in the morning to make a delivery to Devon, Gwen had come into the room that Sky and Jenny now shared at half past seven to inform them that she was bringing Anwen to the childminder's and then going to Torchwood to look after Jack, who had died of alcohol poisoning the previous night after attending a party.

So it was that Jenny and Sky were left alone in the house, and all responsibility for it fell to them. Jenny switched on the radio in the kitchen to make the place noisier. Sky fiddled with the crest on her school jumper, looking nervous. She was starting Cardiff High School that day, and was apprehensive about the whole thing. Jenny frowned at the young Flesh Kind.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Nothing."

Now Jenny was worried. "C'mon, Sky. You'll be fine! It's just school, not the end of the world."

"I'm fine," said Sky. "Just not hungry."

"Well, have some fruit or something, at least," she implored, pouring some cereal into a bowl for herself. "Keep your strength up."

"Okay," the young girl agreed, making her way over to the fruit bowl. Jenny decided that her motherly instincts were not half bad.

"How do you feel?" she asked, over her bowl of cereal, as Sky carefully de-stalked an apple.

"Okay …" the young girl finally answered, taking a bite out of the apple as she did so. "It wasn't this bad at my old school; Clyde and Rani were there."

"You'll be fine," Jenny assured her. "Just remember – how old are you?"

"Twelve," she answered.

"Good. And what year are you in?"

"Eight."

"Excellent."

Jenny left her cereal bowl in the sink and started to organise everything she had to bring with her on the tabletop; her keys to the house, the Torchwood-issue wrist-strap that she never wore on her wrist, her phone, money, the sonic lipstick ... the list went on.

"I should get a handbag," she mused.

"I think it'd look cool," Sky agreed, switching off the radio.

"You ready?" asked Jenny, going out into the hall to pull on the pea coat that she had bought when Gwen had taken her shopping for 'Autumn' clothes, which consisted mainly of knitwear. She filled the pockets with a small sigh.

"Yup," Sky looked happier now, swinging her school bag onto her back and leading the way out of the house.

Jenny locked the door and followed Sky across the street. The school was a short walk away – on the way to Torchwood.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked conversationally.

"Yeah. I'm still nervous, though."

"There's no need to be. You'll have made friends with half your group by dinnertime."

Sky smiled slightly. "I hope so."

"Have you got your pendant?"

Sky nodded, tugging at the chain around her neck for emphasis.

"Would you be able to walk to Torchwood by yourself, then? It's not far …"

"Sure," Sky agreed. "I'll be fine."

"Okay …" they had reached the school gates. Children milled around, saying goodbye to parents (some very reluctantly).

"Thanks, Jenny," Sky beamed up at her, hugging her tightly before running off to find other people in her year group. Jenny stared in stunned silence after her, remembering to yell, "See you later!" before the girl was out of sight.

"Your sister, is she?"

Jenny turned to see a woman – a mother, most likely – standing there, smiling at her.

"Something like that," Jenny replied. "Extended family. It's her first day here; she transferred from another school. She was really nervous."

"She'll be fine by the end of the day," the woman assured her.

"I'm sure she will be. Sorry, I should get to work," she added politely. "It was nice meeting you …?"

"Ruth."

"Ruth. I'm Jenny. See you around, I suppose."

She walked away, rummaging in her pockets as she did so. Every day, on the way to Torchwood, they stopped at a little cafe to buy coffee in styrofoamcups. Ed, the barista who was always there in the mornings, smiled at her as she entered.

"The usual?" he questioned.

"Extra strong for Jack's, please," she smiled back. "He had a rough night last night, apparently."

He chuckled. "A party, was it?"

"Of course."

She glanced around the cafe as she waited for her order. It was quiet this morning. Some people revived over coffee; a woman worked on her laptop, and a man in the corner had a full English breakfast set in front of him.

"That'll be seven pounds fifty."

She turned her attention back to the counter, seeing a tray of Styrofoam cups with messages scrawled on them in black sharpie (only for the regulars). Jenny dug out a ten pound note, sliding it across the counter.

"Cheers."

She waited for her change, fingers drumming lightly on the countertop.

"Thanks," she smiled, shoving the coins into her pocket, picking up the tray and leaving the cafe.

Luke was right about autumn, Jenny decided. It had (so far) been a beautiful season; colder than summer, but still quite warm. The leaves on the trees, usually green, had turned to a riot of colours, a wonderful sight to behold. She decided to walk more often.

She reached the Roald Dahl Plass, which was quite busy that morning, navigating her way through the crowds to find the way to the patch of pavement that was in fact an invisible lift which was actually a perception filter, but, in Jack's words, 'invisible lift' sounded cooler. She rummaged in her pockets again – this time one-handed – and emerged with the wrist strap, pressing the button that activated the lift.

Gwen was working at one of the computers when she arrived, looking up at the sound of the lift and accepting a cup of coffee with her name on it with a, "Bless you."

Jenny laughed. Her assumption had been correct. "How's the patient?"

"Alive," was Gwen's answer, as she sipped her cappuccino. "Though he might be thinking of killing himself just for the rest. I gave him some Aspirin; he'll be fine."

"In his office?"

She nodded. "Don't knock."

She smiled, climbing the steps to where the office was – close to the 'kitchen', an area in which tea, coffee, and, occasionally, actual food were made – and pushed the door open as quietly as possible. Jack was sitting at his desk, head in his hands, his long coat thrown carelessly over the back of the chair.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ugh," was his response. He raised his head ever so slightly. Jenny set the cardboard tray on the desk.

"Well, I've got coffee, if you want it."

His head shot up and he grabbed one of the cups. She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing as he squinted at the note Ed had written in sharpie and took a long draught.

"I love you."

She laughed. "Me or the coffee?"

"Both. And Gwen …" he squinted once more at the cup. "And Ed."

"Yeah well," she folded her arms. "You wouldn't need the coffee if you didn't drink so much."

"Save it," he said, nursing his coffee. "Gwen already gave me a lecture."

"I'm serious, Jack. Just because … liver failure and alcohol poisoning aren't problems for you, doesn't mean you should be doing this to yourself."

"You need a drink."

She shot him a look that could be classed under 'This isn't funny, Jack', picking up her coffee; a mocha latte with Jenny – enjoy the coffee. You're a good friend – Ed written on it.

"I mean it. You could do with a drink. You want to fit in, right? Twenty-one year olds drink."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're sober?"

"Yeah. Gwen made sure."

She sighed. "Well, there are still actual aliens out there. Killing people, you know. So, whenever you're up to it …"

"Jenny. Wait."

She turned her head, hand on the door, questioning glance prompting him to speak.

"Thank you … for the coffee, I mean."

She smiled slightly. "What are friends for?"

Sky arrived at the hub at half past three, beaming as she pulled a chair up beside Jenny.

"How was school, kiddo?" asked Jenny, minimising the report she'd been writing on an alien, its species as of yet unknown, that Gwen had discovered, and was currently checking on, to be filed to UNIT's data banks.

"Great!" she answered, grinning. "You were right. I met this girl called Emma, and she's really nice and … where's Gwen?"

"Checking on the aliens. Don't go near them, Sky, especially the Unknown. We don't know its powers."

"You're writing a report on it," Sky pointed out, obviously having noticed. "So you must know something."

"We don't know the extent of its powers," she rephrased.

"What did you do?" Sky asked curiously.

"Went for a pointless drive, and caught some rouge Weevils," she replied, not mentioning that Jack had died twice because he was still not on form. "Now I'm writing a report for UNIT."

"Why don't UNIT write their own report?"

"It was Torchwood who discovered the Unknown; me who's got to write the report. Here's Gwen. Go bother her."

Sky left to hug her second adoptive mother, telling her everything that had happened at her new school. Jenny smiled, returning to her report. She didn't mind writing it, really. The Unknown was a strange thing, blue in colour, with small, blank eyes. It did not speak, despite Jack's attempts to communicate in what he knew of alien language. It merely sat there, in its cell. The fellow members of its species had fled when confronted with Gwen and the UNIT agents, which she took to mean that they were not a threat to the planet, but precautions were to be taken.

A message popped up on the screen, interrupting her writing. It was Skype. Luke Smith Calling.

"Sky!" she called the younger girl. "It's Luke!"

She rushed over as Jenny adjusted the webcam and clicked Answer with video.

The image focused to show Luke sitting at a desk Jenny remembered seeing in his room.

"Hi!" the two of them beamed at him.

"How are you?" Sky added.

"Oh I'm fine," he waved it away as if unimportant. "How are you? How was school, Sky?"

"Great …!" she started to tell him what had happened in her first day. Jenny smiled slightly, getting up, leaving brother and sister alone to talk. ("The teachers are really nice and I love science and I met a girl called Emma and the language is funny!")

"I'm taking this out of your wages," Jack remarked, as she climbed the steps to the little kitchen. He took a sip of tea.

"It's not costing you," she pointed out.

"Time is money, Jen."

She didn't say anything about the shortened version of her name, merely asking, "Since when do you drink tea?"

"I love tea! … after twelve o' clock."

"Well, consider this my tea break, then," she filled the kettle, pulling herself up on the counter as she waited for it to boil.

"You already had lunch."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"How mature."

"I'm three years old, Jack."

"Good point," he said. "But you're more mature than that father of yours sometimes, so you're doing all right."

She cocked her head, curious. "How old is he?"

"I don't know. Around nine hundred, apparently, but I don't know."

"Are you older than him?"

"I don't know. I lost count along the way. Probably."

"It's been a long life, huh?" Jenny murmured, jumping down to find a mug and a teabag, "… is that why you drink?"

"Largely."

"There are other ways," she said, pouring herself some tea.

"You'd know."

"Excuse me?" she spared him a half glance as she took the milk from the table.

"Something haunts you," he said. "I can tell. Takes one to know one, right?"

"A human saying."

"I am human. Or I was, at least. And you're pretending to be."

"You're right," Jenny murmured, staring at her tea and not drinking it. "I never told you about what happened on Messaline, did I?"

"No," Jack shook his head. "Martha told me bits."

"We were separated; she doesn't know the whole story. I was born, if you can call it that, handed a gun, and told to fight," she paused, drinking some tea. "I killed. Killed people like me – whose only purpose in life was to fight, and then die, without even knowing what they were fighting for, not really. Dad – he didn't accept me. Of course he wouldn't. You know him better than I do. He called me an echo. But Donna, she was my friend, she helped me. He accepted me, finally. He got me to stop killing. 'You always have a choice,' he said. Whether to save a life or take one. He was going to take me with him. To see new worlds. But then …"

"The general shot you," he finished. She nodded. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, but you're right," she shook her head. "There are other ways to cope. This helps. Sky helps. Gwen helps. Torchwood helps. Saving people helps. Maybe I can pay back for the lives I took."

"Jenny," he was standing in front of her now. "Hey, look at me. You are not a bad person, all right? You're not. You didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice," she murmured. She took a step back, voice strengthening. "But, I still haven't gotten to the point. You've got to stop drinking until you die. That's no way to live. I think you should stay with us for a week – if Gwen ok's it. You try my way, and at the end of the week, I'll try your way."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're going to get drunk?"

"Absolutely not, but I will try one. Deal?"

He stared at her for a moment, standing there defiantly, and smiled, "Deal."