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Waiting Around To Die \\ Jack + Gwen
The very thought that it was Death who had been the one to place them there was enough to make Jack feel a deep chill within his spine. It took a lot for the immortal to actually experience fear. He’d swore to himself that this was something that he wasn’t going to forget, something that he should never forget. Happy to see Gwen pocketing the paper, he waited patiently for her catch up to everything and to acknowledge what he was actually telling her. They were going to get out of there and hopefully this time for good. When Gwen gripped his hand tightly, the Captain turned to face her and nodded encouragingly.
"I am too, Gwen. I’m not regretting anything I-or any of us-have done here." Of course there were things that Jack had neglected to tell Gwen, such as setting the sheriff’s station on fire with Lucifer inside it. But he’d told himself that this was something that she simply didn’t need to know about. Especially considering that it was Lucifer’s idea in the first place. And then there were the things that everyone knew about. Such as when Jack retconned Dean into forgetting most of what he’d done in the Pocket. Jack was still convinced that, that was for the best and for the good of the hunter’s own sanity.
Sensing the underlying fear that Gwen was experiencing, Jack reached up and grabbed her other hand squeezing it into his own. “It’s okay, Gwen. I promise, I’m not going to lie to you, not this time. Just trust me.” He spoke softly as he leaned his head down towards hers. Seeing her standing there before him with her eyes closed and letting out a scream, Jack set his lips into a thin line as he waited for the transition of one world to the next to happen. Not breaking his stare on her, Jack cracked a smile when Gwen began to laugh and then grin. Grinning with her, Jack rose a brow and then gave a soft shrug.
Within seconds it happened. It was like in a film when the camera is behind a cop and he’s interviewing a witness but when the camera pans around the cop’s back and appears on the other side it’s a different witness. That’s how the worlds changed for the two of them. Glancing up, Jack squinted his eyes at the greying sky. Slowly he stood back and dropped Gwen’s hands before holding out his arms in triumph and letting out a loud, triumphant laugh. “Home! Cardiff! Rain!" Cheering, Jack moved back in towards Gwen and gripped her by the shoulders.
"Gwen Cooper we’re finally home!" Letting out another laugh, Jack leaned in and planted a kiss onto his second in command’s lips before backing up and letting out another extremely loud and enthusiastic cheer. Slowly, however, the captain’s enthusiasm died down when he realized that the two of them would never be seeing Ianto, Toshiko, or Owen again. Swallowing thickly, Jack placed his hands into his pockets and nodded at his team member. "Do me a favor, go home, be normal. Not for me, not for you, but for your daughter and Rhys. Don’t ever tell them what’s happened. They don’t need to know."
Clenching his jaw, Jack looked over towards the location of their old hub. “You know I’ll be around, and you know how to get in contact with me. I’ll be—” Jack paused and a hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “—I’m going to rebuild Torchwood Three. Give it a purpose again, give us a purpose and the Weevils a run for their money. Gwen-” Jack slid his eyes to look back at her. “Stay safe, okay?”
Gwen never had any trouble expressing her emotions, verbally or otherwise. When she opened her eyes to a familiar world that was still unlike anything she'd seen in nearly a full year, she gave three cries in quick succession: in shock, and joy, and then in protest right in time with Jack's declarations of 'Home! Cardiff! Rain!' It was the last thing she should be thinking on but her mind jumped back to her time in the jail cell. It was raining when she left, when everything got better... and worse.
Her enthusiasm died just a bit faster than Jack's and she chalked it up to how afraid she was and how tired. Still, her heart ached seeing him as each of the realizations hit. With every positive aspect of their return, there was a harsh blow in recoil. And that was life. That was Torchwood. It was another one of those moments where Gwen thought that she was closer to Jack and understood him better than anyone else. Not for the first time, she was proven wrong.
It was an objection and not a real question when she snapped, "What?" She'd been about to ask Jack what they should do next and 'go home' would have been the very last thing on the list she could imagine him supplying. A very broken and selfish part of her wanted to ask when he'd ever cared about Rhys, but it had more to do with the fact that no one else in the world would understand the grief they were going through and her stupid need to share it.
Lying to her family wouldn't be anything new, but Gwen couldn't be expected to just fall back into her old role in the home. She hardly recognized herself in mirrors these days so the old wedding portraits and that little picture in her daughter's locket might feature another woman entirely. She imagined walking into her mother's flat, interrupting dinner and spinning a good old story about America after the Miracle and her old Special Ops job and just how much she'd missed them.
She wanted to tell Jack that if he was just going to send her away, he might as well have left her stranded in the Pocket. But she lacked the sense to move out of the rain and she listened with uncharacteristic silence to Jack's plans for the near future. "You're staying?" She just had to ask. "On Earth?" It wasn't the first time a decision of his shocked her. Gwen's first instinct was to make Jack understand that none of what happened was his fault, he didn't need to punish himself or rebuild their world alone. She froze mid-sentence when she realized he might have a different reason for sticking around.
It hit at that same time that he was making a sacrifice and asking Gwen to do the same. She owed it to Jack to see that someone survived the toxic environment that was Torchwood, that something good came out of it. She owed it to her long-suffering husband and their baby girl, to the young woman who'd grown up without a mother and who would never see her again, God, she even owed it to Meg to stop fighting that hopeless war. She didn't reach out to Jack again. The finality of that gesture would have given more pain than comfort. She just nodded and made no effort to hid her tears.
"I.... okay." That promise didn't even need to be verbalized: of course she'd be safe: she had someone watching over her. When the time came, she'd demand a place in the new Torchwood, whatever Jack made of it, but, for now, she had a more personal and much more frightening path to take. It wasn't even a real goodbye. They'd both already said it: they had no real regrets. It went without saying she'd keep the heart safe and beating. Carrying objects that didn't belong in her world and thoughts that didn't belong in anyone's, Gwen let the rain wash away most of the evidence. She didn't look back.
Waiting Around To Die \\ Jack + Gwen
Jack felt the hug that Gwen had given him and before he could respond the woman had pulled back. Hoping that the hug meant she was going to listen to him and leave, Jack began to lower his gun and focus more on her—until she pulled further away and told him to hold on. Letting out an annoyed sigh loud enough that she’d hear, Jack gave a glance towards the structure of the building before narrowing his eyes and turning them back towards his second in command. “Gwen we don’t have time for this, whatever it is I’m sure you can come back and get it later.”
Of course what Jack left out was the fact that whatever the woman was looking for would inevitably be destroyed once the building collapsed, but he didn’t want to sit here any longer than they had to, to argue the point. Hearing Gwen begin to state what could have been a name, Jack slowly rose a brow and began to look around the room cautiously. Staying right where he was, Jack turned in a circle before he landed his eyes back onto Gwen. “Did you just call for a cat?! Are you crazy!? This whole buildings going to collapse and you’re looking to save a fucking cat? Gwen where the hell is your priorities!?”
Setting his gun to safety and holstering it, Jack clenched his jaw as he was about to move over towards her and pull Gwen up. But as soon as he did, he realized that she probably hadn’t even heard a damn thing he’d said, or rather yelled, to her. “Fine, you know what? You have two minutes before I carry you out of here.” He sighed, this time defeated before crossing his arms over his chest and waiting rather impatiently for Gwen to continue her desperate and stupid search for the feline.
But when he heard his name being called, the captain almost immediately rushed towards the woman’s side. Following her gaze, he tilted his head before reaching over to pick up the seemingly harmless piece of paper. Reading the lines on it, Jack raised a brow before glancing down at his companion. “It’s in Lucifer’s handwriting, Gwen he says it’s—” But before Jack could finish the sentence he shoved the paper in Gwen’s hand before glancing up at the area where things from the three universes used to fall in from.
“Gwen!"He called out to her as he blindly reached for her hand, not willing to let her go without him. "It’s happening again, this time I can feel it. Gwen, I’m not leaving without you this time, I-" He paused before growing a wicked grin on his lips and looking down to meet her gaze. "I need you. The world needs you, Gwen Cooper, the Pocket can’t hog you any longer. Besides, we have a world to tell about this place and who put us here." Glancing towards the paper, Jack met here eyes once more before taking a deep breath, "Are you ready?"
Somewhere in her mind, Gwen did register that she was being yelled at and that she was more than likely in some form of trouble. The worst of it was Jack confirming just how stupid she was for going after this cat. The moment they were safely outside, she was going to explain it: how she simply refused to lose anything else. If Gwen Cooper could escape the police station holding nothing more than an angry cat and a shred of dignity, she'd still be able to make the next few days worth living. She gave a sort of grunt to say she'd heard and understood the two-minute warning, even if she was still going to fight it.
Turning her attention back to the sheet of paper, she watched Jack snatch it up and read quickly, waiting for him to make something of it because she just couldn't. Mentally, she wanted to shut down the mere concept of Lucifer's discovery. "Death," she whispered with a tone of awe that held the same amount of fear and respect. "But how is tha-" She let that question die without an answer, it wasn't even finished. She took the page without question and folded it quickly, suddenly very aware that she might need to run for her life any moment now. Her mouth was open and she was about to admit she'd given up on the cat but that was when she followed Jack's gaze up to the portal and, without thinking, she mirrored his expression of dread.
'Gwen!' She startled. "What?" Jack was right next to her. He didn't need to shout but something in him had deemed it necessary. "Oh God," Gwen's voice went back to that low whisper while she struggled to process what Jack was saying and what it all meant. It took her longer than it should have to realize that he wasn't demanding she find a way to prevent his leaving: he was asking, practically begging her to come along. And that was another impossible concept: she actually got a choice in the matter. She shoved the paper into a pocket of Meg's old jacket because she was going to need her hands free no matter what happened next and she couldn't stand to lose it.
The look in her eyes spoke for itself. She kept them open and staring in order to let Jack see and understand that she was terrified and that it was only outweighed by the sheer trust she had for him. Not too long ago, Gwen had accepted and firmly believed that the Pocket was a version of Hell and that she actually belonged among the dead. Considering what leaving this place had meant for Owen, she stood tense. She'd never wanted to be wrong so badly in her entire life. A few seconds ago, Jack's hand had brushed hers but she didn't take it, not until the very moment she made up her mind. It would mean leaving the Pocket world to fend for itself and it meant throwing away any chance she'd have of seeing Meg again. But what was Torchwood without sacrifice? And where would she be without Jack in her life?
Shaking visibly, she grabbed his hand and gripped it as though her very life depended on that hold- it might have -and she nodded. Senselessly, she was back to thinking about John Hart. The first time they met ended badly. She'd fully intended to walk straight into the Rift, dragging him along in order to keep the city safe, no matter what it did to them. More recently, she'd got her hopes up thinking John might be trying to find the Pocket from the outside world. She could do that with Torchwood's old technology, rebuild and never really have to say goodbye... One last thought went toward the possibility that she could still be right and about to disappear forever.
She made sure to speak carefully. The statement was meant to be encouraging to Jack, but it could very well be her last words. "I'm-" she stared, panting before she finished in a rush and shut her eyes tight. "Really-glad-we-did-this." She wasn't feeling the sort of pull Jack described; that was almost as terrifying as the thought that they'd be separated and torn apart- again. For no logical reason, Gwen let out a scream. It sounded more like a war cry than any real expression of fear or pain. Home. If this worked, they'd be going home. This time, she laughed. That triumphant grin seemed a little premature but she squinted, risking a glance at Jack and, just in that moment, she knew they'd won.
Queens of Apology || Gwen and Martha
Martha pressed her lips into a tight smile, happy that Gwen didn’t press the matter. She honestly didn’t know what else to say in answer to her question anyhow and it was really better this way leaving it be. She gave a slight nod to her head in agreement and tilted her head so that she was looking over at the other woman. “That’s the best thing that we can do right now,” she agreed, averting her gaze back to the cupcake before finally taking a bite.
She still didn’t know much about the barrier in the forest, so that information intrigued her. She’d have to ask more about that and learn more about the research they’d been doing, but she figured there were better times for those types of conversations. They would have plenty of time to go over those details. Martha didn’t think that Gwen sounded completely confident when she said that they could do this but decided not to press it. Who was she to take any form of encouragement from anyone at a time like this.
Despite only having eaten half of the cupcake, she reached behind her to set it on the counter and picked up the cup of coffee instead, turning so that she was leaning her side against the counter now, completely facing Gwen. She took a slow drink, savoring the bitter taste as she watched Gwen come up with an answer to her question. It broke her heart a little as she watched the surprise register across her face as if she hadn’t been expecting to be asked in the first place.
Her lips curled into a sympathetic frown. She couldn’t count the number of times that she had watched things happen and wished it had been her instead. The year that never was when she watched her parents getting tortured and watching Owen getting shot in her place were two things that came to mind right away. Shifting so she was resting her elbow on the counter and reached over to gently touch Gwen’s arm with the other in a way that she hoped was comforting. “They weren’t your fault, y’know?” She said quietly, before blinking in surprise. The change in topic caused her to let go, her eyes widening. Gwen changed course so quickly that it actually gave her whiplash. Her eyebrows furrowed together, genuinely confused as to what she was talking about before she remembered. “A dog?”
In truth, Gwen had rushed to change the subject because admitting to her guilty emotions was only a bit easier than dwelling on them would be. She did nod sadly before that happened. She would have told Martha the same thing too; she practically did already: there was nothing they could do to fix things or change them and nothing in the world that could justify or even their losses. It was rushed and also unfair how she dove so quickly into he subject of Jo's new pet and held tight to that talking point. At least it wasn't painful.
"There's this weird portal in Lucifer's office," she explained. "Kind of like the Rift in Cardiff, just a lot smaller. Things drop in from the other universes sometimes and there's no telling what you get." She'd expected the trap to vanish when Lucifer did. It had never once bothered her. Gwen's best guess was that the animal had fallen through while she was at her other job and somehow found its way to getting stuck in the crawlspace under the police station. "It was a little bulldog that time." Gwen took out her phone and scrolled quickly to find a picture. She'd only taken one and it happened in a light that didn't flatter the beast at all. "Little squashed-in face," she said, waving her screen for emphasis.
It wasn't about the dog anymore. Gwen was gearing up to share a theory. She just needed a moment to recall just how much Martha knew. So much of what she'd been researching had been treated like it was a top secret project, reminding her of working for Torchwood Three in its prime. "I was thinking that might be our way out." Feeling stupid, she rushed to clarify. "The portal-thing, I meant, not the dog." It was either that or the odd loop in the forest that took anyone who crossed it from one side of the town to the other and this one would be both safer and easier to study.
Gwen sighed and picked up her coffee, giving it another try. Jumping insanely again to yet another topic, she lowered her voice a bit, "Did we ever get you a gun?" Jack might have thought to go through their small arsenal and supply one. Gwen was just thinking that it paid to be safe. Carrying a gun made her safe? Now that was a twisted thought. This place really had done some damage.
Queens of Apology || Gwen and Martha
Martha grinned, looking over her shoulder at Gwen when she joined her in looking for the cupcakes. “Measuring birthdays in here is a bit of strange territory,” she agreed. “But then again, I never quite know what age to say I am back home either,” she shrugged, placing the found cupcakes on the counter with a proud grin. She couldn’t believe how excited they both were over cupcakes and coffee, but celebrating a birthday when everything had been so dreary seemed important. Like it would be good for them.
With the coffee made, and two cupcakes between the two of them each containing their own little candle, it would seem the two of them were ready for a special occasion. As ready as they ever could be considering the circumstances. “Happy thirty-fourth or thirty-sixth birthday!” She cheered, raising her own cupcake into the air, mirroring Gwen in a toast.
Her face fell slightly at Owen’s name, but only just. A small laugh bubbled up from her chest. “I can see it now,” and she really could. If she thought hard enough she could even here his sarcastic comment about them wasting their time. The smile did fall completely then, and she nodded, “Yeah.” She moved so that she was leaning against the counter again, her gaze dropping to her hands as she started to pull at the wrapper around the bottom of the cupcake, twisting her lips together in thought. “I know, and I’m alright,” and when she looked back up at Gwen she honestly couldn’t tell if she was lying or not. “I think everything just came as so much a shock, honestly. But I’m ready to do what I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again..” She admitted.
"How’re you though? I really should be the one asking you," If she had been feeling out of sorts, she could only imagine how Gwen must have been feeling and she felt guilty for not asking how she was sooner. Gwen had not only been stuck in the pocket a lot longer than she had been but she had also been a lot closer to Owen.
It wasn't quite sad enough to make Gwen regret making the stupid little toast, but something in her was tense and saddened, more than the usual bit. The word 'alright' was just as suspicious as 'fine' at times like this. Martha wasn't to blame. It was the sort of thing that would slip out automatically. That was why Gwen didn't treat the answer as a lie. It might have just been a kinder way of saying things could be worse. She nodded to the rest of it and busied herself with a large bite from the cupcake. The unlit candle got neglected and quickly plucked from the treat and set aside.
The little cake itself wasn't the grandest thing Gwen ever tasted. It was too soft and the combination of the frosting and the unexpected filling threw her off. But why the hell was she complaining? It was better than most of the rations they'd been eating and it was the closest thing she'd ever see to a birthday cake ever again. "Brilliant," she said, not sounding a bit sarcastic, it was more of a gesture of gratitude that fit the solemn theme. "We just need to stick together," she shrugged one shoulder, failing to look as strong as she was meant to. But she meant it: Torchwood couldn't lose anyone else, not again. Martha was a part of their little family now and Gwen would damned before she let anything happen to her.
"'Still doing research, and mainly that involves chucking rocks at the barrier-thing in the forest." Sometimes it paid to be honest and others, it just couldn't be helped. "But we can do this." It might have been a lie but offering up simple orders and encouragement was second nature for Gwen. She didn't need to maintain her own faith just to keep others moving. it was just too early to tell whether or not Martha would follow it. "Me? I..." she paused. She should have anticipated the question. Finally, she let the honest truth slip out, partly because she trusted Martha and partly just because she was sick and tired of holding it all back.
"Every time something happens, I think, why wasn't it me instead? I did that back home too, when we lost people. It happened just..." Gwen was barely conscious of her movements but she managed to get a few mouthfuls worth of the coffee into one of the cups and held it in a suddenly unsteady hand. "A lot. But I'm okay. I keep moving. I have to." Thinking it had been a mistake, she set the coffee down carefully on the nearest flat surface and turned to look Martha in the eye as best she could. It was a terrible change of subject but she just had to: "I almost forgot, though: that thing in the police station crawlspace? It was a dog. 'Ugly little thing, but harmless. Jo Harvelle's got it now."
Waiting Around To Die \\ Jack + Gwen
There little talk was over before Jack knew and he soon found himself heading back to the hub to wait another sleepless night until morning. It seemed to drag on and was made ever more painful by the loneliness the place seemed to have when everyone went home. Of course it wasn’t anything that Jack wasn’t used to, but he’d grown accustomed to having John there with him, to keep him company(and among other things). Sighing, Jack stole a glance at his couch before forcing himself to lay on it and to at least pretend to sleep. Surely enough though, that ‘pretend’ sleep of his turned to be real and he found himself waking up to a new day.
One that he never expected to end in the way it was going to. Sighing, he sat up and stretched before pulling himself off the couch. Grabbing his coat, he slid it on and began to go about sorting through things. That was, until his phone decided to go off causing him to set down some stray files and to pick up and see who it was. Knitting his brows together, Jack wondered what it was that Gwen had to call him for instead of simply coming to see him. Hearing a strange sound and then feeling a sudden vibration throughout the town hall, Jack the phone. Grabbing his gun and trying to load it, Jack squished the smart phone between his ear and his shoulder.
"Hello?" There wasn’t any response and that worried him. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. Getting the gun set, Jack grabbed his hat and placed it on before holding the phone correctly to his ear. “Gwen? Gwen answer me, dammit!" Jack shouted into the receiver hearing nothing but what could easily pass as static. Growling with frustration the captain made a mad dash for the exit and bounded up the stairs into the main hall of the building. Looking around he could see smoke outside the windows. "Gwen wherever you are, stay there, I’m coming to get you." He spoke slowly and sternly before he hung up the phone and pocketed it.
Exiting the hall, Jack made a run in the direction of the smoke, only to quickly see it was the sheriff’s station. “Gwen!" He felt his voice break as he called out his second in command’s name as loudly as he possibly could. Flinging open the outer door, Jack glanced up as he moved to open the other door where he’d hope to find the woman waiting for him, alive. Pushing the door gently as to not make the building fall apart further than it had. Peering through the smoke, Jack inhaled sharply when he saw Gwen huddled to herself and pointing her weapon towards the stairway.
Something had gone wrong. Something that Jack could tell with just one look that Gwen wasn’t going to talk about openly without a fight. Setting his jaw and then his lips into a tight, thin line, Jack slowly drew back his coat to pull out his Webley, readying it to aim towards the same stairwell. Moving slowly towards her, Jack reached down to pull her up to him. “Come on Gwen, we have to get out of here. This place could collapse any minute, it’s not safe.” Instead of yelling at her, Jack took a different approach by speaking softly and almost soothingly. “Gwen, please.”
For a moment, Gwen forgot that Jack didn't know the full story. He wouldn't understand why she kept her gun trained in the direction of the worst of the damage. It wouldn't look like a jail break to him. He'd have to assume that either the Pocket or one of its inhabitants was attempting to wreak havoc on the buildings for no justifiable reason. She didn't have the time or the energy it would take to explain herself. Jack didn't have to like it. He knew what their priorities were so, when she saw his gun at the ready, Gwen lowered her own and accepted the help in standing up.
The hug she gave him lasted all of two seconds. It barely counted as an embrace and looked more like she'd smacked his chest with her forearm and squeezed tight before she took off running. This was another thing she wouldn't be able to explain. It had only just hit her. Thankfully, Lucifer's little office was only a few paces away. "Just one-" she called out senselessly. "One second." Lucifer's bloody cat always made a point of avoiding her. Gwen had only seen it once since she moved into the station and she liked to think that it found its way over to her old house where the Archangel had been staying until he disappeared.
Jack was right, though. That far wall wasn't going to hold if it took any more damage. A second explosion could send the rest of the building's support crashing down. Gwen knew the assailant's intention even if she didn't know his or her real identity. Hopefully, by now, they'd taken Hugo and ran off. Gwen could live with it if she had to start hunting people down tomorrow, but she really couldn't stand to lose anything else. It occurred to her in those quick, tense seconds that risking her life for an animal that likely wasn't even in the building was nothing short of reckless. But she wouldn't be who she was if she backed out at this point.
"Keer- uh, Key-" No. She'd just forgot the damn thing's name. She didn't like the little beast any more than it liked her, but she wouldn't leave it to die. Another point was that its claws wouldn't do much more damage to her arms than Hugo's knife already had, not before she could run and toss it safely out the front door. "Cat?" She tried, louder and more desperately. She was on her hands and knees in a moment to check under the not-so-ugly couch Owen helped her put in some time ago. "Bloody fuck-" she swore, crawling the few feet from the sofa over to Lucifer's desk. There was still no sign of the cat but something did catch her eye.
Above the desk, Gwen sensed it before she actually saw anything. Some kind of cloud- there was no better term for it -had always liked to drop objects and animals from the three original worlds, quite literally right on top of Lucifer. As far as she knew, the Angel never got around to figuring it out, he just pushed the things aside for someone else to deal with. It was how Sebastian Moran found his dog and- Gwen shivered -how she'd initially got her hands on the resurrection glove. If anything came out now, there was no telling if it would be a gift or some form of attack. On a night like this, Gwen wasn't taking any more chances. It might as well have been the Rift. She raised her gun and took a few careful steps back and that was when a single, seemingly-innocent sheet of paper got her attention. Before she'd picked it up or even finished skimming the first line, she tensed in a sudden rush of horror. "Jack!"
Queens of Apology || Gwen and Martha
Pretending that she didn’t see the where Gwen’s gaze had drifted to, Martha let out a breathy laugh, nodding her head in understanding as they walked to the lounge together. Gwen’s answer seemed like the best possible answer to that kind of question those days. with everything that had been going on. “Mental,” she repeated, returning Gwen’s smile just before the reached their destination.
It wasn’t the same as before, but it was still nice to hear the halls echoing with a little bit of life again as weird as that sounded. Ever since Owen had disappeared, Martha had been spending even more time at the hospital than before- even starting to sleep in her office on most night. Even with just the little bit more noise, it felt better. Martha hadn’t realized until then how much she had been craving company.
Martha leaned against the counter as Gwen started to make the instant coffee, wearing a sad little smile of her own as she watched Gwen work. Her eyebrows shot up, “It was your birthday?” The realization that even birthdays weren’t a concrete thing in the pocket gave Martha an entirely new outlook. “Well, we’ll just have to do something about that.” She announced, standing away from the counter only to turn around and start rummaging through the cupboards. “I think there might be some cupcakes in here somewhere…” she muttered, looking through the small supply of food, a quiet ‘aha’ slipping past her lips when she found what she was looking for- a small pack of Hostess Cupcakes. “It’s not much, but it’s something.” She smiled, placing the cupcakes between them on the counter. “We might even have some candles.”
She should have known that the Pocket made things far too good to be true. Everyone had started paying dearly for the few benefits they'd gotten from it initially. She didn't want to risk the painful results and was glad she'd thought to turn the subject to something as simple as a birthday. "Well," she said. "I think so, yeah. Days are funny here but all the devices are saying it is." She moved from her seat after a grand total of thirty seconds perched there to go and see what Martha had found. She gave a little cry of surprise and delight that might have come across as juvenile but no less genuine. "We get cupcakes and coffee." That turned her entire mindset around. It was almost sad how the smallest things now meant the whole world to her but a moment like this was worth savouring.
As if proving that it was on her side, the coffee maker finished up the pot and quieted down. Gwen followed Martha's lead pawing through the cupboards. It occurred to her too late that this might be rude. She'd already invited herself over and made herself at home without a second thought. Shrugging off that concern, she offered up two plastic cups that fell from the cupboard and really weren't meant for coffee. Candles were in there too, little tiny ones meant for celebrations and cake toppings. Gwen had to wonder who put them there in the first place. "Ah, what the hell," she resolved quickly. "I don't turn thirty-four-or-thirty-six every day." The cupcakes were from the same corporation as the godawful Twinkies Owen had been hoarding, but these at least looked appetizing.
She stuck a candle in both of the little cakes with some odd, misplaced amusement a moment before she realized they obviously wouldn't light automatically. "Whatever," she said, feigning exasperation a moment before she let out a giggle instead. She picked up one of the cups and raised it in a mock toast. "Owen," she said with a little too much emphasis. "Because he'd be making a face right now." She'd be damned if they resorted back to small talk after that. Instead, she just had to say it. "You know, there's nothing any of us could do. We just have to take care no one else goes missing. You-you're okay, right?"
Waiting Around To Die \\ Jack + Gwen
Jack could tell that something was moving around in Gwen’s mind. Something he had told her, had certainly caused his second in command to pause and think. About to ask what it was that kept her so preoccupied, Jack found himself grow silent before even speaking when Gwen finally spoke up. ‘Rhys' of course it would be about her not very bright husband. It'd be the first time in months since the woman had even thought about the man she'd left behind, and even now Jack wasn't so sure she was really thinking about him. Deciding to offer up something to her odd one-worded sentence, Jack parted his lips to speak.
"I saw Rhys, he threw a punch and cursed me out. But eventually he asked where you were and if you were alright and," Jack paused to chuckle before grinning at Gwen. "How this was my fault and, I quote, ‘Bloody fucking Torchwood’s always gotta go and do something stupid. Can’t ever be home in time for supper.’ I took that as him saying he missed and loved me, but I guess it was also meant for you." It was true though, Rhys looked healthy and although the circumstances, happy. He at least had baby Anwen to take care of. But it was clearly evident to Jack that Rhys definitely and desperately missed Gwen.
But of course, just like that, Jack had moved on and was already back to business. He had to repeat himself lowly and much more slowly after Gwen had asked him ‘what’, but was glad to see she’d snapped back into attention long enough to give him a decent reply. Clearing his throat, Jack tilted his head upwards and pursed his lips. “Good. Send out the new PSA as soon as possible. I don’t want people starving themselves because they believe the food is tainted.” Jack decidedly ignored Gwen’s comment about how the saboteur had gotten exactly what he or she wanted in getting at Torchwood.
When Jack had mentioned the gun to Gwen, he waited for a better response than a simple ‘oh’, but it was soon clear that was all he was going to receive. “Gwen, I’m trusting you fully again, you understand that, right?” Raising a brow, the captain ducked his head to get a better look at her, hoping that she hadn’t spaced out once again and went into her own thoughts. But that soon turned out to be another change of subjects for the duo. “I know I’ve been gone, Gwen. It wasn’t by choice, believe me.” That was true, the only time Jack would choose to leave the pocket willingly would be if he could take his team with him; alive and healthy.
It was troublesome news to hear that things had gotten worse though. Jack was positive they had, but it was far harder to actually hear that they had. “We’ll have to keep trying, that’s the best we can do.” It was equally as hard when that was the only words he could bring himself to speak and fully believe. Anything else would be a lie, and Jack wasn’t ready to start lying to Gwen again. Straightening up, Jack pushed himself off the desk and nodded. “I’ll have to talk to Ianto then. Make things… better between us. He deserves more than what he’s been getting—” Jack paused and held up a hand defensively, “—no fault on you, it’s all on me.”
Turning as if he was about to leave, Jack nodded in agreement with Gwen’s plans when her last words stopped him. This wasn’t the time nor place to think about John Hart, but here they were, talking about him. “I’m sure he thinks I’ve abandoned him again.” Slowly and subtly, Jack reached up and patted his chest gently where the dog tags sat beneath the layers of clothing. “I’ll be back at my office if you need anything. Let me know how things go with the PSA and please keep me aware of anything suspicious or if more people turn up missing, alright?”
For a moment, Gwen had to wonder if Jack was lying to her the way she lied to Ianto: with the best of intentions and even an attempt at humour, but still. She was inclined to believe it and she was almost ready to protest, but that impression of Rhys was just a little too convincing. It was the first time in months that Gwen let herself linger on thoughts of her husband. Rhys had played a very significant role in her life for- what? About ten years now. Gwen had changed so much in the past several months; it was kind of a comforting notion to learn that Rhys hadn't. She laughed just for a moment in relief and she told Jack without words that she appreciated the reassurance, even if it didn't solve anything; She didn't protest the change of subject.
It would take no effort whatsoever to type and send out a public service announcement. Gwen was just worried about the resulting questions and criticism. She still hadn't gotten used to that. The police force in Wales and especially with Torchwood, they'd just been able to leave the press work and the cleanup to someone else. If there was one aspect of the job she didn't miss, it was the days she had to go knock on some poor mother's door and confirm a death. The disappearances were actually grieved in a similar way so she mentally crafted her best idea at helping, which, of course, had her mentally spaced out until she fully understood that sobering comment from Jack.
He was trusting her, apparently more than you'd expect from a teammate or even a best friend. It was a sort of connection that had to work both ways. Gwen's initial response wasn't much better than the 'oh' she'd said in response to her gun. "Right," she said, hating herself for sounding so numb about it. "I mean," Her words came out stronger after a beat. "I won't let you down." She considered for a long moment whether or not she should tack on an 'again' to end that statement. There was one more thing on her to-do list that she wasn't telling Jack about. It was risky but she didn't need him thinking she couldn't handle herself, not when it pertained to the one job she was still an expert on, and especially not when it was her fault this needed doing in the first place. She'd go looking for Hugo Oberstein that night. In the meantime, they still had the needs of a whole town to consider.
"It's at least partly on me," she said to the subject of Ianto. "I did lie." She wanted to tell Jack that Ianto loved him and would do absolutely anything he asked, and that any of his team could say the same, but she sort of needed to believe that Jack already knew it. "P-S-A," she summarized her understanding of their current tasks instead. "Then I'll phone Tosh and see if she's got anything worth trying and..." She trailed off because that was all she was going to admit planning. Rather than panicking over the near-mistake, she returned briefly to the point about John Hart. Assuming the other captain hadn't burned Cardiff to the ground yet, it was nice to think he was actively looking for Jack and, by extent, the Pocket itself. Maybe a way out could come from some help outside. "I know you better than he does, then," she shrugged one shoulder and pulled a chair up to her desk. "You always come back, right?" The question was rhetorical and it held a dual meaning that also said 'See you soon.'
The night went by faster than it rationally should have. By the time Gwen returned to her desk, half of its events were a blur. She had a particularly violent German prisoner in the cell upstairs and several cuts lining her arms. The worst of those were slashes above her right wrist from when she'd almost lost the gun in that struggle. They probably needed medical attention but, before she even thought to wake Martha Jones, there were a few things Gwen needed to do first. She wriggled out of the ruined white shirt of her uniform and replaced it with a jacket she took from one of her desk drawers. It was a dark and stylish piece that had once belonged to Meg. Gwen tried not to look as pathetic as she felt when she inhaled the scent of it and let out a barely-discernable sob.
She set her right forearm in bandaging from the small first aid kit and got to work on the new PSA she'd prioritized. After that, she had to make a phone call. Before she got that far, however, what could only be an explosion close by scared the life out of her. She jolted, grabbed her gun and ducked under her desk. By the time she processed what was actually happening, it was too late to do anything to stop it. She growled in livid frustration and pulled out her phone. She didn't have to speak. If Jack was anywhere near the Town Hall, he would have heard the chaos, probably even witnessed it.
Some debris tumbled down the stairs and there was a cloud of dust. At least the downstairs area was fine; Gwen just wasn't ready to look up. She waited numbly for an answer. If Jack spoke at all, she didn't process it, she didn't respond. She let the phone fall from her hand onto the floor and sat very still with her gun aimed at the stairway. Sadly, she had learned a few things since her first years working as a cop. She now knew enough to recognize when she was in over her head, and when pursuit would do more harm than good. Hating herself and pulling her jacket closer, she just waited.
Important Notice || Re: Food and Town Updates
The Torchwood team has looked over the rations we're handing out. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this batch. If you need food, water, or anything of the like, please come to us. We can help you. We want to help you.
Most of you should already know about the disappearances. I haven't got any right to tell you not to panic. I did some of that myself. But let me just reassure you that it's under investigation. Captain Jack Harkness found his way back to us. It's not unreasonable to hold some hope for the others.
In the meantime, I'd like to form a support group for those of us who have lost people. We'll need a venue and some people who are willing to listen and give advice. Please message me if you've got any ideas.
Queens of Apology || Gwen and Martha
Martha had just finished her rounds through the hospital, checking that everything was where it belonged and shutting off all the extra lights before settling down in her favorite office by to fuss around with the computer. Normally she’d log onto her blog, check up on things and write down a log of the days events in her own personal folder. But the computer decided to work against her that night, refusing to do anything that she wanted it to do. The only thing she managed to successfully do was beat up the side of her computer which did nothing to help anyone.
She jumped at the sound of the front door opening, followed by the sound of a familiar voice until she remembered that she had left the door unlocked for Gwen. It wasn’t that long ago that Gwen had been staying in the hospital. They didn’t talk much while she was there, nor did she ever bring up what she suspected had been the status of her and Owen’s relationship. It wasn’t any of her business. But now that Gwen was coming to meet her from outside the hospital instead of from somewhere within, it served as yet another reminder of who exactly was missing and why they were even meeting in the first place.
Despite that reminder, that she knew might never go away, she smiled as soon as she saw Gwen. Martha didn’t need asked twice to step towards the woman and wrap her arms around her in a tight hug. “Gwen, how are?” She smiled warmly when she pulled away, one hand lingering on the woman’s arm for a moment before she let it drop back to her side. “That coffee isn’t even brewed yet, and I think it might smell better than any coffee I’ve ever had,” she mused, walking behind Gwen to lock the door before leading the way deeper into the hospital to a little kitchen/lobby area where they could settle down and brew the coffee.
That hug was perfect. Gwen pretended just briefly that she and Martha were better friends than they had been. This would be a sad but sufficient reason to bring them closer. "Mental," she said, a cheeky response as to how she was doing. "How're you?" Martha was like Jack in the sense that she knew when she had to be serious verses when she could make room for playfulness or sentimentality. For a moment, Gwen could only smile. She'd never imagined she would look at a can of instant coffee and consider it a godsend. She'd never expected to spend a late night in an almost-empty hospital either. But as she watched Martha move to lock the door, her eyes drifted down the path that would lead to the morgue downstairs.
Owen had turned the place into his weird little flat and a part of her felt the need to confirm that it was empty. If he'd left any possessions behind, he'd probably have willed them to Tosh or Martha anyway. There was nothing there for Gwen: an affair and an old friendship without any sense of closure. She shook her head to dismiss those thoughts and laughed, sounding uncharacteristically shy as she followed Martha into the sort of lounge that, thankfully, included a coffee maker. Gwen had been spoiled. The only coffee she drank was either Meg's or Ianto's. A can of instant that had been sat in Sebastian Moran's cupboard for months would be shite in comparison, but she really didn't care. Not now.
"You know just how crazy things are these days, Martha?" Gwen bore a sad little grin as she got water and the coffee filter into place. "I forgot my own birthday. Sixteenth August..." she wanted to ask if the medical charts would confirm this but apparently, they'd stopped self-filling some time ago. "I'm either thirty-four or thirty-six." It would depend on how she measured time: the year she came from or the year the Pocket claimed to exist in. A reassuring hiss came from the coffee pot and Gwen left it to brew while she moved to take a seat, hoping it would be decent coffee. God knew they could use a small reward for all this.
Waiting Around To Die \\ Jack + Gwen
A week. He’d been gone for an entire week in Pocket time. It certainly didn’t feel like a week when he got back to his own world, it felt longer, probably a month. Time was different, time was weird, but it certainly wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to by now. Staring at her, and doing what the two of them almost always did, Jack nodded once before parting his lips to speak. “It was the year we left, Gwen. For some reason this Pocket is defying everything that the Doctor warned us about.” That was honestly something that truly disturbed the immortal, if the Doctor was wrong about this… what else could he be wrong about?
Nearly dropping his arms back down to his side, Jack froze in contemplation as he soon found Gwen wrapped around him. Bringing his arms to envelope her, Jack squeezed her tightly before placing a kiss to the top of her head. The last remaining Torchwood Three members that were alive outside this world were together again and everything seemed to feel alright in that moment. “I missed you too, Gwen,” Jack admitted through a whisper as Gwen continued to hang onto his embrace.
Slowly pulling apart from her but still keeping her shoulders in his grip, Jack looked down at her and attempted a ghost of a smile. “I’m sorry to say Gwen, but I don’t either. And by what you’re telling me, people are slowly getting out. Though I don’t think we’re getting out alive or free, just returning back to the way we were. So that means for Owen…” Jack trailed off before allowing his hands to slide down the length of her arms before he let go entirely. “Lucifer would be back in his cage with Michael and I’m sorry, but Meg,” Jack knitted his brows together before allowing that sentence to die at his lips.
There were more things for them to talk about, more important to the current situation. “Did you find anything out about the food and it being apparently contaminated?” This was a serious matter, one that needed the most attention. Since Jack and the team knew the food was fine, they had to figure out how the false message was made and who exactly made it. Pursing his lips, Jack leaned against Lucifer’s former desk and crossed his arms over his lap. “I’m going to give you your gun back, just because you’re going to need it if things escalate, which I fear they will.”
Raising a brow and glancing away from her, Jack frowned before pulling himself into thought, “I’m going to bring Martha back on board as our resident town and Torchwood doctor. We all trust her and we know she’s good. We also have to try to get the cameras back up so that would mean talking with Toshiko… and somebody has to get Ianto to release more than just one cup of coffee a day.” Frowning more than he originally was, Jack couldn’t hold it much longer as it slowly turned into a smirk. Glancing over at Gwen, he tilted his head and nodded towards her. “Are you alright?”
'It was the year we left, Gwen.' No. No, Jack had to be mistaken. Their present was a fixed point and the Doctor said... Gwen stood tense, rather annoyed by her own thoughts. Since when did she trust the Time Lord's theories more than her own heart? Jack went on to confirm that the Doctor had been wrong and that sent her thoughts spiraling in another direction. If the year she'd been taken from was still accessible, it meant that when she left, there would be no telling which version of Anwen she'd keep: the infant who'd practically been torn from her arms or the bubbly teenager who'd grown up without a mother. Gwen felt horrible enough already. She didn't need to be thinking on what she'd say if she got a choice, but there it was. It wouldn't be easy to settle back into it, but 2012 was the year she still belonged in and then there was...
"Rhys." The name came out so awkwardly that it almost sounded like a question and Gwen hadn't meant to speak at all. The guilt was still overwhelming, more so now because it wasn't her husband or even her daughter she was longing to hold. They'd be safe in any universe (she wouldn't allow the alternative) and she would see them again, one way or another; but for now, she was selfishly and irrationally stuck with thoughts and useless prayers for Meg. Hearing Jack confirm the likely fates of her loved ones didn't make that any easier, but it was necessary, even if it was agonizing.
"What?" Gwen snapped back into the present. She rubbed at her eyes, brushing away the tears she hadn't been aware of forming. Jack asked her something about the food supply. She didn't really need to hear it again, but that allowed her to stall for just a moment. "I'll get a post out later. 'Say we inspected a new batch of the supplies and they're fine. I figured that's better than saying someone tried to sabotage us... and managed to," she finished with less volume and more bitterness. She was sharing her plan, rather than asking for permission to execute it and that made the Captain's next point that much more surprising.
Gwen had a gun. She'd stopped going for target practice once the ammunition stopped refilling but she did know how to use it. The fact that Jack thought to supply her with another- more specifically, with the gun she'd shot Rose Tyler with - it was a cause for concern. "Oh," was all she said when he finished. It was done out of necessity rather than trust or any sense that she'd earned it, but Gwen could live with that and she welcomed the change of subject. If Jack said he'd picked Rose to be a part of their team, Gwen would have resorted to a particularly childish move. There was composing a team and then there was just spite.
Thankfully, it was something more sensible. Martha was a good pick. Gwen simply nodded, not trusting her words when she wanted to say that Owen would have approved. And there they were: back to work like the usual. Gwen wished for just a moment that they were the type of friends who spent just a little more time embracing. "You've been gone, Jack," she said, using a firm tone for emphasis. "Not long, but a few things did change, okay? See, the cameras and even the computers, they're really bad. You know how bad something has to be if Tosh gives up on it?"
She shook her head and let out the rest of it. "Ianto thinks you're on honeymoon. I didn't know what else to tell him. He doesn't really talk anymore. It's like he was before, with... when I first joined up." Gwen had actually intended to provide solutions rather than more problems but she could only bear so much. "I'll start with the PSA," she said, dismissively. It was better than answering his question with the fact that, no, she definitely wasn't alright. After that, she could have a good cry and then she would be open to orders and suggestions. Jack knew her well enough to see that, didn't he? It was an after-thought and only a half-hearted one when she added, "I'm sure John's fine. 'Probably still looking for you."
Riddles in the Dark || Gwen and Jo
"Sounds good," she cooed, embracing the animal. Yes, Joanna was a fan of dogs. It didn’t matter that this one was starving, broken, and dirty; she loved it all the same. Letting Gwen take the flashlight, the need for authority slipped away with each passing second. "Poor thing." She mumbled softly, holding him closer. Her expression grew with concern as the bulldog (at least, that’s what he seemed to be), trembled with fear and pain. There was a lot of work to be done. As well as there being no question of who it went to. This dog would be Jo’s, she knew it the moment his sad eyes met her chocolate ones.
Childhood memories were riddled with visits of the canine variety. The huntress had never gotten the privilege of owning one of course, Ellen had never given her approval. This seemed to be the best opportunity before her. Plus, everyone would love the little guy. Jo had never seen anything so sweet and kind. “You done?” She glanced back at Gwen, hands still on her new friend. He whined as she looked away from him.
"Righto." Gwen took Jo's compliance for granted but it was still nice to hear. She wriggled somewhat awkwardly past the girl and the dog until she could stand up without hitting her head on the ceiling. Gwen had no desire to ever return to this space so this would be her only chance to make sure it was empty of all threats. She set her light at a dimmer setting and leaned over Jo's shoulder to get a better look at the creature. As far as she could tell it was the ordinary dog Jo believed it to be. The cop rolled her eyes and set the rifle down carefully on the ground where Jo was seated. She kept one hand over her holstered Beretta instead but she made a mental note of where the hunting supplies were just in case.
She paced the length of the room one grimy, unfinished wall at a time and then inspected a beam supporting the centre. Nothing jumped out or shied away from her torch beam. Nothing made a detectable sound. Gwen was almost disappointed. There wasn't any danger here but there were no clues either, only a useless animal who'd somehow, stupidly gotten itself trapped. 'You done?' Gwen spun round to face Jo again. She didn't appreciate the impatience in the other woman's tone but she exhaled slowly and assigned blame on Jo's concern for the dog. Her dog, because Gwen certainly didn't want it in her charge. She wasn't really the sort of person who could care for a pet. Animals were sweet and Gwen would protect them with as much care as she did humans when she had the time and the option for it, but pets weren't for her. If asked, she was probably more of a cat person.
Still, this dog needed help and Gwen found herself demoted from alien catcher to dog rescuer. "Yeah," she said with a tone lower than necessary. She paused to place a hand on the dog's head and let it slide back over one of its ears before she took the rifle back in hand and moved to crawl out the way she came. It went without saying that she'd go first. The dog seemed to like Jo and therefore it would be more likely to follow her lead. Gwen could help call to it from the outside staircase. It was even less fun of a trek this way. There was no sense of purpose or adrenaline to keep her moving, only a need to get out as soon as possible. Once outside, she chucked the torch into the crawlspace, thinking Jo would be close behind her and needing the light. "Should be almost there," she called. She would not resort to baby talk for this dog, but she would complete the mission. Absolutely.
Queens of Apology || Gwen and Martha
Carrying a torch in one hand and a can of instant coffee in the other, Gwen Cooper took careful, but hurried steps across the town. Either one of these items could be swapped out for the Beretta holstered at her side if need be. The walk from the Sheriff's Station to the hospital wasn't a very long one but it was made worse by the fact that she didn't feel safe. There was a psychopath still to be hunted down and a number of creatures from any of three worlds that could come out ready to attack. Coupling that with the fact that people were vanishing at random every single day made Gwen's mind simply refuse to settle down.
It was more depressing than worrisome to walk past the empty pub. In better days, the place might have looked like a solution to her. As it was, she pressed on and soon enough, she found herself at the very familiar front doors of the clinic. It was the entrance she always used when she lived there. Most of her nights had been spent in Owen's bed. Come to think of it, so had most of her days. When she did little things to help clean up around the hospital, Gwen wondered just how much Molly and Martha knew about the affair. She'd unofficially ended it a few days before Owen disappeared. She got back together with Meg just in time to see her girlfriend vanish as well. No one knew about that bit.. at least, no one was supposed to know about it.
Jack had just returned. It gave her some hope, not a lot, but probably more than she could have asked for. Another good point was Martha Jones. There was no replacing Owen and everyone involved with Torchwood would know that, but they needed a skilled medic on the team and, more than that, they needed a good and trusted friend. Gwen nudged one of the doors open with her foot and, once inside, she shifted, clicked the torch off and pocketed it. Keeping the coffee visible in her other hand, she held both arms out, demanding an embrace, and she called to get Martha's attention, "Come here, you!"
What took you so long? I have to nearly explode before you turn up?
Waiting Around To Die \\ Jack + Gwen
Jack knew almost instantly when Gwen opened the door what direction she was going to take. Sliding his feet off the desk, he sat forward and braced for the punch, thinking that she was going to aim for his shoulder or something of that affect. However, once he realized that the punch was aimed for his face, he planted his feet onto the floor and pushed himself back via the office chair and stood so that her swing missed him entirely. There was a lot to consider here, a lot that would prove crucial in those few minutes. He had to tread lightly with her and if he said one wrong move she was liable to aim for him again(and this time probably not miss).
Defensively, Jack held up his hands and tried to usher them towards Gwen in hopes of calming her down. When she spoke though, the captain allowed for his face to fall for a few seconds before he regained his normal, placid, composure. He had to let her see that he was hurting too and that he really didn’t want to leave them in the first place. Except that wasn’t what she asked. She asked why he came back, as if he meant to leave her and the team and everyone they had grown to care about in some form or another. But one other thing came to his mind, her voice had broke, which meant she was incredibly close to her own breaking point and he had to find out why.
Slowly lowering his hands, Jack bowed his head and let out a heavy sigh before glancing up through his eyelashes to look at her. “Gwen, this is going to sound incredible and untrue but you’re just going to have to believe me, alright?” Lifting his head, Jack raised a brow and slowly parted his lips before taking another deep breath. “I got out. John too. Gwen, it was amazing, we were back in Cardiff and everything seemed… normal. But then,” Jack paused and frowned as he waited for Gwen to give him a reaction, something that would validate to him that she believed him or that she thought he’d gone nuts.
Clearing his throat, Jack slowly slid his favored jacket off and set it carefully atop Lucifer’s desk, “But as soon as John and I went separate ways to gather things, supplies, I was back here again.” Placing his hands on his hips, Jack shook his head. “How long was I gone? And is anyone else missing besides Owen and John?” Jack had to ask her these questions, he had to know. He also wondered if Lucifer was apart of the missing persons who happened to once inhabit the pocket, and if he was, was he free or was he once again back in the cage? Clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Jack began to delve himself into deep thought.
The only thing that brought him back into reality was the stare he was getting from his second in command. Holding his raised brow, he looked over at her and dropped his arms once more at his side before considering his old approach that always made Gwen seem to feel better. Softening up, Jack let out another sigh before holding out his arms for her to come into them if she so wished. “You know I always come back, Gwen. I can’t leave you, besides, you’re all I have left, right?” Emotionless as it came out, Jack knew Gwen would feel the meaning underneath his stoned expression. Guilt, sadness, friendship, love, everything that the two ever felt and shared were in those words, and he knew that she knew it.
It was partly Jack's fault. If he'd been standing, then Gwen might have bothered with eye-contact before she aimed to hit the very first thing she saw. She didn't even realize how much force she put into that attempted hit until she missed and the momentum from it sent her stumbling a step forward. Her thigh hit the side of the desk and she slapped her hand against it to catch herself, seething quietly until the urge to scream had passed. Gwen steadied herself and stood up properly, leering at Jack and waiting for his answer. She didn't like the truth when it came and, naturally, the ominous 'but then...' that preceded Jack's long pause nearly got her on edge again.
He'd made it to Cardiff. That was important:not just back to their world, the normal Earth, but home and it was safe. Jack Harkness had just used the word 'normal' to describe the city and that was good news, wasn't it? Gwen blinked a few times but she didn't say a word. She didn't think he was lying, per se, but she held a hand out expectantly, demanding to know how the story ended and to get her question answered. His next words hit her like a proverbial ton of bricks. They explained everything but they also made the world that much colder: the captain didn't come back on purpose; he was pulled in like the last time. Almost as much as she wanted a way out, Gwen wanted to know why this happened at all.
She needed to ask if he'd at least checked the year in Cardiff. Six months for Gwen in the Pocket world had been eighteen years in the real world for Anwen. But more time had passed since her daughter's arrival. Gwen was thinking stupidly about her mother and her husband and all the friends she'd lost touch with. Were they even still alive? The first of many questions was forming on her lips. The first syllable might have slipped out, but Jack's question was uttered first. That was just like him: straight back to business. Gwen momentarily set her own concerns aside. She could at least provide the simpler answers. "Well, you disappeared on the eighth of August... about a week, you were gone." It didn't fit the real-world timing he'd implied but Gwen was busy focusing on that second question.
"Lucifer," she said as calmly as possible. It was probably the easiest of all the names she had to speak and Jack had probably suspected as much. "Cain from the grocery, according to River Song. Owen- you knew about Owen, and, er..." Gwen put on her 'please don't make me do this' face. It was being used more often than normal lately. Thankfully, or perhaps not, Jack didn't seem to be paying her his full attention. "Meg," she said quietly, just because it needed saying. There was another painful tug at her heart but no tears came this time. Maybe that was progress. Jack hadn't really been gone long enough for Gwen to take charge of the team. She wasn't sure what she'd have done if she did. It was hard enough to keep supplying the lies and food rations for the townspeople.
It took some obscene amount of effort but Gwen kept staring at Jack and she managed to keep the expression looking expectant rather than desperate in her demand for help. When Jack did return his focus to the present, he was offering an embrace that Gwen's livid pride told her to keep away from. "Not yet," she said, though it was pointless. "I'm still mad at you." But then his next words broke her. In truth, they were her words, twisted and even more painful now: she was all that he had left. Leaving the Pocket had more than likely spelled death for Owen and it looked like leaving was no longer a choice. Any one of them could vanish at any moment.
Gwen had her arms around Jack before she even mentally processed the intent to move toward him. It was tense at first but she let her guard down after a moment. She might not ever feel this safe or relieved ever again. She held tight and spent a long moment with her eyes shut, just processing the fact that she was no-longer alone in the world. "Yes," she said, before he could ask what she anticipated he would. "I missed you." They were together again. It meant that at least one thing was right in the world. The relief didn't last long, though. Before she made any effort to pull away from the hug, Gwen whispered a confession, "But I've got no idea what to do now."
Notice || Re: Food Rations and Other Concerns
I’d be a terrible salesperson. I’ll drop it at the station later today. I don’t believe you’re in a hurry? Got shit to do in my garden, shouldn’t be done before 6pm.
Alright!
I'll be at the station all night. Actually, I live there now. Don't even worry.
Thanks again, Sebastian.
That's all I need,
That sounds about right. That’s exactly it, isn’t it? We’re just all pieces in one big game of survival. Which isn’t much different from home aside from the fact it’s magnified so much. With the tea and coffee running out, we’ll be in some real trouble soon. I’m sure there’s some somewhere.
I was, and I’m happy to be a part of the team again, really.
Believe it or not, I just got some instant coffee. 'Could bring it by later if you like. I've got a few things to tell you, actually. Really, though, welcome back.