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Written: July 13 2008
Disclaimer: I don't own, nor claim to own Torchwood or Doctor Who. Both series are owned, copyright, and trademark of BBC and BBC Worldwide.
WARNING: This fic contains but is not limited to: m/m innuendo, angst, adult language and situations, and all around sci-fi time travel paradox weirdness. This is a Doctor Who/Torchwood crossover fanfic. You have been warned.
Ripple Effect
Chapter One - I, Harkness
"What's... what's happening to me?!"
"No... No no no no no!" he shouted, pulling at his hair, pacing about before squaring his jaw. "No. I won't let this happen!"
"James! My hands! Make it stop!"
"Quin," he said, his voice a little shaky. He reached out, and grabbed him by his perfectly pressed pink shirt and pulled him forward. His arms were starting to go. His legs would be next, he knew. "Close your eyes and focus on my voice."
"I can't."
"You can. Listen to me. Don't think about anything else. Just focus on me. You got that. Now close your eyes." He brought up his other hand, and covered his eyes when the human refused to close them.
"James..."
"Calm down," JJ said, trying to keep his own voice calm, relaxed even. The tenseness of his shirt gave a little. He was running out of time. He leaned in closer, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips against his fading ear. "I'll save you. And nothing will stop me. Always remember that. Never forget."
When he opened his eyes, there was nothing. Nothing but a scrap of pastel pink cotton clenched against the palm of his hand.
The pot on the counter chimed.
The scent of fresh brewed coffee hit him like a sack of bricks.
If someone dies, they dissapear.
---
Three years ago, Torchwood fell for the final time.
The effects of the Time War, no longer bound by the laws of time itself now rippled across the universe in full force.
The leaders of various factions and governments outside the warring sides convened, and founded the Time Agency from the ashes of Torchwood, as a way of regulating travel, and correcting problems that resulted from the Time War's ripples.
Conspicuously absent were, of course, the current leaders of the former Torchwood Archival Institute.
Daleks and Time Lords alike destroyed entire planets between them.
And one by one, stars blinked out of existence, and dimensions began to merge and rip apart, creating new rifts, new breeches in the multiverse. Entire universes were destroyed, and others merely replaced with stronger, older ones.
And the people in those universes were no different. Dying, for no reason. Drastically changing personalities, behavior, even species...
But through it all, some things remained the same.
The Doctor, both of him, the Tylers. Time Lords that survived the original ending of the Time War. Daleks who hid in the void. Cybermen. The Bane. The Smiths. All of them, unchanging... undeniable facts in the universe that could not be erased.
And neither, it seemed, could the Children of Time...
---
"Jack, look at this."
The man rose from his seat on the company couch and came up to the rail. "What?"
"There's a ship. Hovering over the bay."
"What's it look like?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. It's invisible. I'm checking the database for anything that can go invisible."
"Good luck with that. It's virtually the entire database." The captain ducked under the railing, moving up behind the liason to see over her shoulder. "Ianto!" he shouted, looking off toward the coffee boy's station.
"Sir?" he suddenly asked, appearing stealthily as usual in the doorway.
"Get over here. Gwen, you keep searching the database. Ianto, scan that thing for weapons if you can. Check for any energy signature that might give us a clue about what's keeping that ship flying. If we know what the signature is, we can figure out the engine and from there check that against the ship database."
"Sir," he said with a nod, setting down his tray of coffee and biscuitts.
"And where do you think you're going?" Gwen asked as Ianto set to work, without question as per usual while Jack grabbed his coat and slipped it on his arms. Smoothing out the collar, he grinned.
"Outside, of course."
"You always get to have all the fun."
"Not always. Remember that Dalek and your time bubble," he joked, making for the door. "Besides, someone's got to be the distraction while you two do the hard work."
He left them in the hub, making his way up to the tourist info shack and out into the daylight. Shielding his eyes at first, he turned his head to look around for where the ship should be.
It was hard, but he managed to spot the slight disturbance on the surface of the water from the engines. Small, insignificant waves, but unnatural nonetheless.
Reaching into his coat, he rested his hand on his pistol, just in case. There was no telling who, or what, might be inside that thing.
"Jack, we think we've got a match," came Ianto's voice in his earpiece.
"Yeah? What do ya got for me," he replied.
"You're not going to believe this," Ianto said, and Jack could hear his own disbelief in his voice.
"Tell me already while we're still young!"
"Bloody hell. Jack," Gwen chimed in. "The computer, it's saying it's our's."
"What!" he shouted, focusing his attention back on the spot where he was sure the ship was.
"Behind you!" Gwen shouted. Jack whirled around, pistol drawn and aimed directly at the young man barrelling toward him, followed closely by a pack of weevils... in daylight.
"OUTTA MY WAY!" he shouted, his long blue coat flapping wildly behind him. Glasses on his face, short, but shaggy brown hair.
"Doctor?!" Jack exclaimed before the young man shoved him out of the way, pulling from his pocket a small, compact sonic device and aiming it straight for the ship.
The cloaking device shut off, and the cargo bay ground open as the man took a flying leap.
The door to the tourist shack burst open. Ianto and Gwen were ready and armed with the standard trans-species sedatives, and set to work as Jack stood, visibly unsure of what, or who exactly he had just witnessed.
But the shock was more due to the sight of the ship than the person who apparently owned it.
"That's-" he started.
"Jack, we've got company," Ianto said, rolling the weevils near him into the water. There was no time to take them inside, into the cells. Not when, it seemed, giant cats, or rather cat people were charging toward them.
"That's MY ship!"
"What the bloody hell are those things!"
"You don't want to know," Jack said, firing a round into the air.
The man returned to sight, armed with a strange sort of cannon. "Everyone duck!" he ordered with enough authority in his voice that even Jack moved out of the way as giant balls of yarn flew through the air.
Shortly after, the cat people subdued by string and yarn, the ship's cargo bay closed with the man inside, shouting at someone else in the ship before it dissapeared once again.
"That's MY ship!" Jack repeated.
"And it looks like he's got your coat too," Gwen said with a snicker.
Ianto was busily petting one of the cat people, and teasing her with a bit of string.
---
"Did you get it?"
"Of course I got it!" he exclaimed, holding out the device. "Took a while, but-"
"All that work for a tiny little... thing? What IS this exactly?"
"Hey, I had to wrestle a weevil and outrun a pack of wild cats for this," he replied, tossing it to his companion.
The young man took off his coat, tossing it over the back of a chair. He raked a hand through his hair with a grunt before going to his makeshift kitchen and pouring himself a cup of tea.
"Well, I can't say that I approve of your methods, but you certainly get the job done," the young woman said, closely inspecting the artifact. "So this tiny little thing is a prison cell?"
"Not just any prison cell. A tractor cell. Used the same energy patterns as a Chula tractor beam, which, is the whole reason we came down to this planet in the first place," he said, comming back into the cockpit with two cups of tea. "Two sugars, just the way you like," he said, sitting down in his seat and holding out one of the cups.
"So how long do you think it'll take for Jack and his team to figure out we're still here?"
He shrugged, sipping his tea and getting comfortable. "Not long, I suppose. Certainly long before I'm able to complete the repairs on the ship."
"They're not going to be happy. Especially Jack. You know how he feels when someone else besides the Doctor mucks about with time and all that."
He nodded. "Well, we'll just have to make sure we work extra quick and extra quietly then, eh Martha."
---
[Two Weeks Prior]
"Ma'am!" the young men in red berets said, saluting the woman as she went past.
"Don't do that. I'm not your superior anymore," she said. "I'm just here on unofficial business."
"A free lancer like you? On unofficial business?" a voice said, and she could hear the smirk hiding in it.
"Mickey, knock that off, wouldja," she said laughing, opening her arms as she went to him. They shared a brief, friendly hug before getting down to business. "So, what's so important that you had to call me away from my vacation?"
"I can't talk about it here."
"Right right. The oh so famous shroud of secrecy," she said with a small laugh. "Go on then, lead the way soldier boy. I can't leave Tom waiting forever."
She followed him into the elevator, standing with her hands at her sides as he pressed the button for the lower levels. "Alright now, spill it."
"We've got a problem. A big one. Remember that explosion last week at the United Nations headquarters?"
"Of course. It's been all over the news since last Monday."
"Take a wild guess what it really was," he said.
She sighed. For a few minutes, Martha questioned whether or not she really wanted to know.
When the elevator stopped, a woman in uniform greeted them at the door. "Ma'am," she said in surprise, saluting the former UNIT officer. Martha just smiled, and politely told her to stop doing that as the woman handed Mickey a file folder.
"This is the results of the bio-scan."
"Weapons?"
"None. Just this," she said, holding up a plastic bag, appropriately boasting the UNIT logo.
"That's a sonic screwdriver!" Martha exclaimed. "Not just any sonic screwdriver, the Doctor's screwdriver!"
"It gets better," he said, thumbing through the folder before handing it to her. "Read through this, memorize it. I'll be introducing you to our guest in a few hours."
---
Mickey watched through the glass as the man paced back and forth in annoyance, periodically stopping to examine another portion of the wall, or to stare straight at the two-way mirror, seeming to stare straight at whoever might be on the other side before resuming his pacing once again.
After a few moments, Mickey went in, insisting he could handle himself alone if things went sour.
"Finally! Someone with half a brain!" the young man exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "You'd think they'd at least slip me a packet of crips or something under the door. UNIT's hospitality standards are slipping."
"Where did you come from?"
"I should be asking you the same question," he said in a huff, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down. He leaned it back on two legs and propped his feet up on the table.
"Answer the question."
He shrugged. "New Gallifrey."
"Gallifrey was destroyed. Try again."
"I said New Gallifrey," he corrected. "We decided to start a new one after the old one was blown up."
"What do you mean by we?"
"Nope. My turn to ask a question," he said. "It's impolite to have a one sided conversation." The young man looked at his nails before chewing on one of them and giving a dissatisfied look. "Can I have a glass of water?"
"No."
"Jerk," he replied.
Mickey shook his head and glanced at the two-way mirror. This was getting him nowhere.
"You could always ask the obvious questions," the young man said suddenly, slamming his chair back on four legs and putting his feet on the floor. He folded his hands on the table and smiled broadly. "You know, things like why I came to Earth. What horrible thing I was planning to do to the human race?... All that fun stuff. I assume you've had Mrs. Milligan look over my bio-scan data." He stopped and waved at the mirror with a bigger grin. "Wait... have her and Tom actually gotten married yet, or are they still engaged?... See, I'm a little unsure of that one. After all, timey-wimey details do get a little mixed up and jumbled when you introduce new elements to the equation, like Daleks and dissapearing planets and all that."
He'd had enough. The UNIT officer tossed the folder down onto the table, making it slide across to the strange man. "There's only two recorded cases of half Time Lords to ever exist on this planet, and you're not one of them."
"Ah... actually..." he said, thumbing through the folder nonchalantly. "See, the key word in that statement is 'recorded.' Maybe you should look into thinking outside the box for a change." He knew he was being irritating. He new how annoying and arrogant he seemed. That was a good thing. He needed to keep them guessing, keep them prodding and poking at him until they found his ship.
And by the time they dragged it all the way across the ocean, the last traces of his meddling will have rippled themselves out... Hopefully.
But the young man knew he was pushing it just a little too far with this man, with Mickey Smith. So... he would conceed this battle of wits, for now.
"Tell you what, Ricky," he said.
"Mickey," the other man corrected out of habit, then shut his trap quickly as if realizing he'd made a mistake.
He pretended to ignore the outburst, but inside, he was as giddy as a child. "I'm here, on Earth, for official Torchwood business. Feel free to rifle through my personal things, as I'm sure you've had someone else probably do already. Confiscate anything you think is worth confiscating, and come see me if you've got anymore of your silly little questions."
---
"Does Mr. Mickey know I've got a visitor?" he said, not turning around to look at her as he inspected another corner of the room. "I could have busted out of here by now if I'd wanted to."
"I know."
"So you're wondering why I'm still here, right?"
"You're planning something," she said in an amused tone. "You wouldn't be getting too far without these, now would you?"
He smiled and turned around. She set the bag on the table. He knew what was inside before he even went to look at it.
"There isn't much time. We've only got a couple of minutes."
He pulled out the contents of the bag and put them away, strapping on his wrist communicator. "Why are you helping me?"
"There's only one man I know with a screwdriver like that. And if you've got it with you..."
"I could have stolen it," he said with a smirk.
She nodded. "Yeah... But you don't strike me as the sort to be an evil Time Lord. They tend to have a bit of a maniacle streak, if you know what I mean."
"And what if I'm really... really evil?" he asked, quickly comming around the table and taking her roughly by the arm. "For all you know, I could be the Master in disguise. Oh... I'm so good at disguises..." he said.
"The Master would never be so direct without being arrogant at the same time."
"You're right. He wouldn't. I need a bit of work on that," he said. "What are we waiting around here for! Off we go. On the run!" He released her arm and went for the door, but not without stopping long enough to grab his coat off one of the chairs.
Martha was just one step behind him when the alarms went off.
"Oh yes!" he exclaimed, reaching back to grab her hand and pull her up even with him. He glanced over his shoulder behind them, and Martha tried to hide her smile. His wild eyes, his excitement. What little she knew about this man was enough. Certain things... certain little things she noticed while they kept him in observation stuck out at her. Small twitches. The inability to remain still for very long. But most of all, it was the strange quirk of his that Mickey, thick as he is, didn't pick up. Throughout the interrogation sessions, Martha noted, the man was openly flirting with him...
Which considering the name on the badge she had come across, it didn't surprise her as much as the name combined with the bio-data did...
---
[Nightmare]
They were running. Away from something? Toward somewhere? He wasn't sure.
"DELETE!"
Cybermen. He knew the monotonous echoes anywhere.
He caught a small device. Clunky, but small, and powerful.
"Red settings! Crack that deadlock!"
"What?!" he heard himself ask.
"Damnit!" the other man shouted, comming over to him from where he'd stopped to keep watch. "The red settings, like this," he barked.
"DELETE!"
"Now hold the button down, and point. And keep pointing until the seal-"
"Cracks. Got it."
He wasn't in control.
His heart was beating faster. The sounds of the hollow footsteps marching closer and closer. Towards them.
Gunfire.
"Hurry up!"
He looked over his shoulder.
He wasn't in control. But the fear he felt, so real. Thoughts raced through his mind.
So real.
Gunfire. Closer now. Screaming.
"Harkness!"
He knew that name. Jack! Jack was nearby.
"Here dollface. They haven't got us yet."
"What's taking you two so long! We can't hold them back any longer. They're breaking through the-"
Screams.
"Jenny!" the other man shouted desperately into his wrist. "Jenny answer me!"
"I'm fine. Hurry."
"Quincy... how's that deadlock comming?" he barked, turning to him.
"Almost got it," he replied. Those weren't his words. They were someone else's.
Plasma fire. Sparks exploded from above.
"We're outta time!" the man, Harkness shouted. "We've gotta make a run for it, try the next terminal!" He took him by the hand, and he pulled him down the hallway.
Ianto looked over his shoulder, and the sight of large, bulky, steel figures came into the flickering light of the corridor.
"DELETE!"
"Come on... just a little further..." he mumbled. "HAHA! Gotcha!"
His hand was let go. The other man reached for his wrist, pulling back his sleeve to reveal the vortex manipulator. Antique. Ancient. Outlived it's reasonable expiration date.
"Quin, run up ahead. Start work on the terminal. I'll hold them off!"
"No, you're comming with me."
"I'll catch up," he said, grabbing him quickly, smashing their faces, their lips together roughly.
In the same way Jack always did. Forceful, demanding.
"Fucking pig," he barked, spitting the taste of tea out of his mouth.
He had no control over this.
"For good luck. Now go!"
Sparks flew around them as he backed away, then turned to run.
He was just a voyuer in this perverse fantasy.
"Come on, ya tin woodsmen! Come and delete me!" he laughed, detonating the charges he'd placed while his companion worked on the terminal.
Even though he could do nothing... It didn't change the fear he felt, the surge of adrenaline that pulsed through him. Making it so... real...
---
[Present Day]
"Do you think we've let them sit and wait long enough?" Martha asked, watching the half Time Lord on the screen.
"I'm surprised Jack hasn't come out to try and tinker with our cloaking device yet," he replied, wiping his brow as he teetered on a chair. Having routed much of the main wiring and power sources through the ceiling had seemed like a great idea when he rebuilt the old clunker. But it was when he had to make repairs he really regretted wanting the extra space inside the ship.
"I don't think we'll be able to keep the charade up much longer."
"You're right. I'm almost done. Can you come back here and give me a hand?"
"Oh no. Not after what happened last time," she said with a laugh. "I'm just glad I've still got my eyebrows!"
"It was an accident. How was I supposed to know the autopilot was still on?" he replied defensively.
She shook her head, rising from her seat. "You've been working all morning on that thing. I'll make you a cup of tea and you can take a small break."
"No. I've just about got it."
"Fine. Do what you like then," she said. "But I'm absolutely starving." She carefully stepped around the panels that had been removed just to reach the correct place in the ship's wiring for the tractor beam.
She still hadn't gotten the hang of the strange, if downright odd organization of the food supplies this man kept. Then again, she was used to opening a random kitchen cabinet to find a portal to the fridge.
"Are you sure you don't want any tea?!"
"YES!" he shouted back loud enough that she didn't need the sound system to catch it for her.
Martha shook her head and quickly made herself some tea before returning to the cockpit, where she was greeted by a flashing notice in some strange language on the windshield.
"Uh... JJ? What's this flashing light thing?" she asked.
"What color is it?"
"Orange."
"Just a message. Hit the red- no. Wait. Hit the green button with the weird squggly thing over it."
"They've all got weird squiggly things," she replied, sipping her tea.
"Oye... The one with the squiggly that looks like the number 5013," he said, nearly falling off the chair when his repairs decided to create sparks in his face. "Damnit!" he shouted, sucking on his burnt thumb.
She searched for the button, setting her cup in one of the two conveniently placed cup holders that seemed like they were welded in place to the control board. Obviously not part of the original designs.
Upon finding the button, she pressed it, and was greeted with another flashing message, in blue, that declared boldly in english the words, "BUFFERING - PLEASE WAIT."
This lasted a few minutes before she was greeted with, of all things, that annoying paperclip guy from all Microsoft software.
"How do I get rid of the paperclip guy?!"
"Try Alt Shift-4," JJ said, connecting wires with, coincidentally, a paperclip and some string.
Martha grumbled. "If I knew which squiggles were the right ones," she muttered under her breath before picking up her tea again and taking a sip, only to almost spit it out when she saw Gwen's surprised face on the screen.
"Martha!? What are you doing there?!"
"Uh... Well... You see..."
"Martha Milligan," Jack's voice could be heard before Gwen was pushed out of the way. "So, does your husband know you're riding around with a time ship thief?" He paused, his face comming closer into the shot as if he was trying to peer at something inside the ship from the much smaller computer screen she knew he must be watching her on. "And since when did my ship become a two seater?"
"I didn't steal this, if that's what you're implying," JJ said, tossing a towel over the arm of his pilot's chair and leaning against the back of Martha's seat.
"Obviously, you couldn't. I blew it up. Well, with some help from the Germans," Jack said.
"See, so I couldn't have stolen it, if it was blown to bits, could I?" he said, leaning closer. "Martha, I thought I told you to press Alt Shift-4. The paperclip guy's still there."
"How am I supposed to know what button is what?! This... It's all chickenscratch!"
"I'll have you know that's High Gallifreyan you're insulting!" he shot back at her defensively when Jack tried to interrupt them. Reaching over her shoulder, he quickly pressed a series of buttons, and the paperclip guy seemed to vaporize off the screen. "Much better."
"Martha, who's the new friend with the attitude problem?" Jack asked as soon as he noticed he could become part of the conversation again.
"I don't know... I think he's sort of cute," Gwen said, poking her head back into the shot.
"This is-" Martha started, but JJ interrupted her, turning the outdated webcam attachment to focus on himself.
"Hi, I'm Commander Harkness, Torchwood Archive. I never got a chance to properly introduce myself to you yesterday."
"Hey pretty boy, stop it!" Martha said, catching Jack by surprise.
For a moment, the original Harkness eyed the screen in suspicion.
"Harkness... Jack, do you think-"
"Come on now, can't a guy have a little fun once in a while?!"
Martha sighed and took the webcam back, straightening it's line of sight to include them both. "Sorry about that, Jack. He's a bit-"
Jack grinned. This was getting more and more interresting by the moment. "Martha, maybe we should take this outside."
"You mean, of course, outside the safety of my ship and inside the pesudo safety of the Hub."
He nodded, never taking his eyes off the younger man sitting beside her, now filing his nails with his feet propped up on the control panel.
---
[The Nothing]
"Where the hell am I?"
Silence. There was nothing but... white. Neverending. Stretching on forever.
His voice echoed in the distance.
"Shit. This is just great!" he shouted, listening again to his own echoes.
"Welcome," a voice said softly, almost as if in his ear. "to Nothing."
He spun around, angry, annoyed. "JJ! If this is some kind of sick joke!-"
"This isn't a joke, Quincy Verta."
He turned to look over his shoulder, and found the owner of the voice.
A frail looking figure, taller than himself, and shrouded in black robes. Robes so black they seemed to draw him in. Step by step, closer despite his attempt to rebel.
"Hey No-Face!" a voice echoed. "Back off, this one's mine!"
"JJ?!" Quin shouted, looking around for his comrade. But he saw no one.
"You hold no sway here, half blood!" the voice of the man in black shouted.
"Even so," the voice of the half Time Lord echoed. "He is mine, and you cannot have him, Trickster."
"This is not possible!"
"Indeed, it is. If you know the right... techniques. Quin, check your right pocket."
He shoved his hand deep in his pocket, feeling around before finding a ripped piece of psychic paper. "The passcode for the Archive all access clearance you copied down into my notepad... you put it on psychic paper. Your human stupidity managed to save your ass once again!"
"God... even here, you're an asshole," he mumbled.
"As for you Trickster," JJ's voice boomed. "You will leave this one alone, or else suffer the wrath of Gallifrey!"
---
"So, you're telling me-"
"Yup."
"And you're here because-"
"Daleks attacked my planet."
"Which is called Gallifrey."
"New Gallifrey. How many times must I correct you people!" he barked, slamming his feet back down onto the floor. "The old one blew up, we made a new one."
"Technically," Martha offered. "The designated name is Ravlox 6. An Earth-like planet with only a slightly different ratio of gases in the atmosphere. Still breathable to humans, but devistating to many species of Earth animal life."
"You'd know this how, exactly?" Gwen asked.
"I took her with me to retrieve a few things."
"And that's when the tractor beam went out. Mr. Egg-Head here thought he could play around with the controls before taking off the autopilot."
"It was either that or get roasted by Daleks. Which would you rather have had?" he said in his defense.
Martha nodded. "That's why we came here. To pick up pieces to fix the ship. The rift is always spitting things out. So, we figured... we'd scan for the specific pieces we needed, fix the ship, and be back on our way."
"So humanitarian of you, Martha," Jack said from the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. "But if I remember, you're done with all the time traveling business. Wanted to settle down, start a family with a proper man."
JJ looked at his temporary assistant and watched her try to keep her composure. Her dark cheeks took on a darker, slightly reddish hue. It made him smile. "Don't blame her, Captain," he said, stressing the title in amusement. "She helped me escape from UNIT. After that, she was just going to go back on her vacation, but I asked her to help me out, just a little."
Martha didn't say a word. She knew better than to get between boys, toys, and their egos.
"Look," JJ said, and the tone he took told Martha he was conceeding this round. "I just needed spare parts. It's easier to scavange what seems like useless bits of alien junk than buy an entire new engine. Besides, it's not like I could just walk in here and pick up everything on my shopping list. Torchwood isn't exactly a swap meet station."
The session ended, as JJ had suspected it would, with himself locked in one of the cells, and Martha probably getting a lecture about traveling with strange identity thieves from the future. So, he used his time wisely, trying to focus his mind on a single thought. Through all these years. All this time spent by himself... he was again alone. And he could only think of Quin.
---
"Come on! Would someone at least feed my cats! They've got to be starving by now!" he shouted up at the camera.
He hadn't had a decent night's sleep since they had placed him, and he had cooperated in the effort, in observation. He'd gone to pacing back and forth at one point, inspecting every inch of the cell for some sort of escape. If he only still had his vortex manipulator... Then again, he knew better than to wear that into the Hub. Not with the scrutiny he knew he'd be under.
He knew they must have started searching the ship. After all, the Cardiff team was known for being thorough with their job.
His assumptions were well made, as it was his second day of seclusion when Jack came to see him personally, with his own personal assistant in tow.
"Quin!" JJ exclaimed, jumping from the cot. "You're alright! Thank Rassalon!"
"Back up there, cowboy," Jack said when he'd come to the bulletproof glass, sticking his fingers through the holes.
Ianto stared at him. He couldn't shake the feeling of knowing this man from somewhere. It was quite unsettling for the Welshman.
"Quin, don't you recognize me?" he said, almost pleading.
"Gwen!" Jack barked after touching his earpiece. "Get down here. We need heavy sedation."
The Commander glared angrily at Jack. His eyes burning with a silent rage behind them, a bloodlust... The look of a man who's seen far too much battle. He'd seen that look before, in a Time Lord's eyes.
"You've Retconned him, haven't you?! You bastard!" he shouted, slamming the side of his fist into the glass with a shout, and kicking before backing away. "You fucking bastard!"
"Sir," Ianto said quietly to the captain. "I think it would be best, for safety reasons, if I went back upstairs. Kept an eye on Martha while Gwen's dealing with this so called Commander Harkness."
"Mistaken identity. Happens all the time. We'll just give him a little more convincing."
---
A little more convincing. That's what Jack had called it.
Ianto, for the first time in a long time couldn't stomach Jack's rough hand at interrogation. Usually, things never went this far. But this time... this time it was far stranger, far more different than normal.
The CCTV would be cut off from time to time. Jack would be conspicuously absent. When he would return, he was quick to storm into his office. Quick to wipe the sweat off his brow. Clean his hands.
And when the video surveilance would be cut back on... The man would be on his cot, sometimes face up, sometimes on his side curled up, covered in the thin blanket.
More than once, Martha openly complained about the treatment of Torchwood's prisoner. But even the Nightinggale couldn't get Jack off this destructive bender.
After the most recent interrogation Ianto intercepted Gwen on he way to the cells. It took quite a bit of convincing, even with his silver tongue, to get her to hand over the first aid supplies. He had slipped a pear in his pocket, not knowing when the last time their prisoner had been allowed food or drink.
When he reached the lower level and reached the door to the Commander's cell, he hessitated. After the last time he had been down to see the captive, he was too weirded out to come back down to him again, even to bring the usual weevils or the occasional random rift alien down to the lock up.
He waited, listening for sounds on the other side of the door. He heard nothing more than low, labored breath. He balanced the tray on one hand, and used the other to open the lock. He slipped in, and went to close the door securely behind him, but stopped when he heard the wheezing voice.
"Don't bother," he said from the cot. "It's safer in here than it is out there."
"I've come to clean you up," Ianto said, keep his tone even and cold.
"Sorry," he said, trying to turn his body. "About... Your name is Ianto."
Well, some progress at least. "Yes," he said, stepping closer. "Can you sit up?"
"Yeah," he replied, pushing the blankets down to his waist and fighting to sit up. Ianto offered to help, but JJ refused his help through clenched teeth as he clung to the wall.
"Where's Martha?" he asked at last.
"Jack sent her home," he answered, sitting on the edge of the cot, the tray beside him as he opened the small medical kit.
"Good. I"ve kept her long enough," he said, wincing when Ianto pulled at his now much tattered shirt. "I wonder, who's going to break first."
"Pardon?"
"Me, or Jack," he said, turning his head a little to see over his shoulder. "Don't get too comfortable back there. Just do your job, and get out."
Ianto nodded. He kept silent, letting the madman prattle on and on about nothing in particular. When he was finished, took off the gloves and dropped them to the tray before producing the pear. "Here."
JJ stared at it, then made a childish face of disgust. "Pears... hate those things. Can't get rid of the taste for months," he said.
Ianto left it on the bed and gathered up the tray. "You could have tried to escape at any time."
"I know. But... that wouldn't be wise. Not when I know Jack's trying to repair my ship."
"His ship."
JJ smiled. "Right... and I'm the Face of Boe," he said with a labored chuckle. "Better get going. We both know that he's watching us right now. Better not give him any more reasons to come back down here today."
---
"You know, what I don't understand is how a Time Lord ended up with MY name."
He smirked, even through the pain. "That should be obvious, Captain," he said, spitting out a mouthful of blood spittle. He turned his head to wipe his mouth on his own shoulder.
The captain pistol whipped him again, elliciting a loud groan from the much younger man. His head slumped briefly, but he lifted it again and gave a small, bloody chuckle. "Didn't know you liked to get this rough, Captain."
"Yeah, I'm full of surprises," he replied in the same tone the young man had given him. He cocked his revolver, pressing it to his forehead. "The way I understand it... regenerations are pretty painful for a Time Lord."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Jack," JJ said, dropping all pretense of having fun with all this.
"Then talk."
"No," he replied.
His finger was on the trigger. And the young man stared up the barrell at him. "What's the matter? Scared now?"
He smiled. "No."
"Jack!"
"I'm kind of busy Gwen."
"Jack, listen to this."
"-TE!" a monotonous, but fearful voice boomed over the speakers in the basement.
"DELETE! DELETE!"
"Fuck!" Jack shouted, stepping back.
His captive's eyes went wide in shock before they quickly narrowed as he pulled against his constraints. Handcuffs clattered to the floor seconds before his hands shot around to work on untying his legs from the chair.
"You-"
"I was trained by the best," he said, giving a knowing grin before getting up. He reached back for the chair to steady himself. "No time to explain," he said.
"DELETE!"
"I'm on my way up. Gwen, status report," Jack ordered."
"Rift activity all over the city. Cybermen everywhere."
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?!"
JJ stopped in his tracks at the door, turning around to look back at Jack. "You read my badge," he said. "This falls strictly under my jurisdiction."
---
"Incomming transmission."
"Put it through."
"Jack-"
"John."
Jack was about to speak again, but JJ interrupted. "Johnny boy!" he said with forced enthusiasm and amusement. "Figured you'd turn up again here. Having a little trouble with some tin woodsmen?"
"Little Harkness, didn't know you were in town. Where's your Eyecandy?"
"Long story. Listen, you owe me, big."
"What's in it for me?"
"Remember back on the Eye of Orion? Yeah. It's your turn to pony up. I need a Rift reversal, focused solely on the Cybermen... maybe Jack too. I'm pretty cross with him at the moment."
"Oooo. Still having daddy abandonment issues?" John's voice laughed.
"Cut the shit, John. I'll make sure you get full reinstatement in the Agency if you manage to pull this one off."
There was silence. A moment of consideration. "Daddy issues?" Ianto asked with a raised brow, looking at Jack from where he stood behind them.
"Now that you mention it, I do see a bit of a family resemblance."
"I'm going to need some time on this one," John's voice replied.
"How long?"
"An hour, hour and a half?"
"We don't have that long," Jack said moodily.
"Yeah, well, it'll have to do," JJ barked, shoving past them towards Jack's office. "Make it an hour John! We'll take care of everything else down here."
"You're trusting Hart to-"
"Things change, Jack," he said, squaring his shoulders and standing up to the man. He was just an inch or so shorter than the captain, but he was just as stubborn.
"Hart doesn't change. He only acts the part."
The prisoner, this second Harkness shook his head and wiped at his mouth and jaw as he let out a groan. "...I didn't want to do this..." he said. "I am relieving you of your command, Jack," he said sternly. "Under article 17 of the Shadow Proclamation, paragraph 92 of section 772-B, I am hereby relieving you of your command. This situation is now under the jurisdiction of the Torchwood Archive New Gallifrey Division."
He turned on his heel, giving Gwen a slap on her rear for a sudden shock to get her to move out of his way. "Screwdriver!" he barked.
"You can't do this!" Jack shouted angrily.
"I just did," he said, glancing past Jack's form moving closer to him. "Ianto, I said screwdriver! NOW!"
"My team only listens to me," Jack said with a tone that told him he had the upper hand.
JJ weighed his options. He was bound by his own rules. Only partial glimpses into the future were allowed. Never the revelation of long term timelines of events. But right now, he didn't think he had much of a choice. He didn't look at Jack. Instead, without the aid of his sonic screwdriver he had to use his wits and fingers. His ten digits flew over the keyboard, punching in code after code as if he had the entire password database in his cranial memory.
"There is unauthorized usage of the Rift, from the other side. I couldn't pinpoint the exact location of the starting point, but I had a pretty good guess where the finish line would be. We can either stand here and argue ranks," he said, dashing to another console and setting to work on that one.
"Gwen!" he snapped suddenly. "Get over here. Every screen that pops up, I want you to enter DoctorDonna. It overrides everything." Jack watched him, his frenetic pace as he worked.
His face as it transitioned from expression to expression. He was in pain, Jack knew. Pain he had caused himself. But he wasn't giving it any time to heal. None at all.
Jumping from station to station, it reminded Jack of someone else...
"Or we can ship these Cybermen back to where they belong," he said, switching stations once more. To the bench Owen used to occupy. Then on to Tosh's.
Ianto chanced a look at Jack. "Give him his screwdriver," Jack ordered. Ianto nodded and set to his task, returning with the slender wand. His hands were shakey as he handed it over, and JJ looked quite pleased with himself when he once again had his favorite, best used tool in hand.
"Take over for Gwen. Gwen, over here. Repeat everything you did there. DoctorDonna, for everything."
"What is all this?" she asked, her brows comming together in the expression Jack knew was one of confusion masked by assertiveness.
"We're doing a... well, it's hard to explian."
"A Rift flush," Jack said, wanting to feel useful. He rushed over to another console, knowing exactly now what the young man had in mind.
"Yes. It's like... kicking a vacume into reverse."
"Canary Wharf," Ianto suggested, the idea given softly, mournfully.
"Yes! Just like that, only this time, it's a little more tricky. We don't have the void stuff to help us out," JJ explained, stepping back when Gwen took over his station. He was tinkering with his sonic screwdriver. Flipping it around to use one end, then the other, with such ease. Such practiced perfection and timing.
"Johnny boy! You still with us there old man?!"
"Still here. These buggers are really putting up a fight."
"What did you expect from Cybermen, eh?"
"Could at least have been the midgets."
"Midgets?" Jack asked, peering over his shoulder at the young man bouncing too and fro between the other members of his team.
"Very long and very funny story. Ask the Doctor next time you two meet up," he said, pulling at his hair before his eyes grew wide.
"You still want me to pop down and have a go at Jack with-"
"No. It's fine now. He's being useful. After I set up the autopilot on the Rift machine, we'll meet up with you on the Bad Wolfe. Till then, keep activating those pockets. Make sure you keep all civillians clear."
"And the tin cans?"
"Take as many out as you can. They'll get sucked back in, but at least there will be a few less to do some damage until we activate."
He jumped over the railing, running up to the Rift machine with the screwdriver out and at the ready. He actually scaled it a ways, clamping the tool between his teeth until he reached just the right spot. Carefully bracing himself with his legs and one hand, he turned the screwdriver around so that the red end was sticking out. He slid some before shoving a sneaker clad foot between two pipes and regaining his balance.
"What are you doing?!"
He couldn't respond, not with the tool sticking out his mouth as it was. Instead, he kept working, focused solely on his task.
"What now? I've got a blank screen!" Gwen shouted.
"Me too," Ianto responded.
Jack looked at his terminal, and typed as fast as he could. DoctorDonna over and over again. He didn't particularly like the choice of password... considering the events of last year...
"All blank," Jack said, confirming that after his last hit of the enter key, his had gone black as well.
He took the screwdriver from his mouth and laughed. "Alright boys and girls!" he said, looking at Jack as he stressed the word girls. "It's showtime!" He adjusted his footing and slid halfway down the machine, then stopped himself by once again shoving his foot between now clumps of wire. "Let's let her get to work! Donna, darling, you ready?!"
"A bit of warning would be nice," came the sharp, London voice. A woman's voice.
"Good girl!"
"That's-" Ianto started, but Jack shushed him as the computers came to life. Blue against black. Then a face, framed in short cropped red hair. And smiling.
"Donna..." Jack finished, staring down at the screen.
"Alright Donna, it's up to you and the kids here. Jack, come on. She can walk them through the commands now. We've got an appointment to keep."
He hopped down, starting to run back to Jack, but stopping and turning for his office. For his confiscated items, and his coat. He was strapping on what looked to be an older model of a vortex manipulator.
"Hey-"
"Mine's bigger, so shut it. Come on!" he said when he reappeared from Jack's office, going at a dead run for the invisible lift. His wasn't really bigger, not really. It just had some... modifications.
"It'll-"
"Express lane!" he said, pointing the red end of the screwdriver at the lift before hopping on. He was just about to let it lift off when Jack jumped on board. "Going up!"
As they rose, faster than the normal speed for the lift, the Rift machine activated... in reverse.
---
[The Nothing]
Quincy sat indian style on the ground. Or, he thought it was a ground. It was solid under his feet at least. He hadn't been able to sleep. Not that he was aware of. But time in this place, it was beyond just disorienting. It was bizzare.
It felt like days since he just appeared in this endless expanse of white. It could have been weeks, or months for all he knew.
And JJ's voice... It didn't come back. But neither did the one he called Trickster.
He was alone. Abandoned, seemingly. But he couldn't forget his last words. They were faint, but he couldn't forget them. How could he, he was told not to.
But this place, it was strange. It played tricks with your mind.
If the Trickster couldn't get to him directly... he sure was playing some sort of game with the man. Showing him things, false things...
"Quincy!" a woman's voice shouted.
"Not again," he muttered to himself. This wasn't real. He knew it wasn't real.
"Quincy!" she shouted again.
He rose to his feet, noticing he wasn't his full height. He was shorter. He looked down at his hands as his enviroment filled in, fading in almost from the nothingness.
The bedroom door burst open. "Quincy, I've been calling you for hours!" the woman hissed angrily at him before storming over and grabbing his arm. She started to drag him through his room. But he pulled back.
"You're supposed to be out helping your father!"
"Quin..."
"Why? None of this is real? You're just my imagination again!"
She struck him across the face.
"Quin..."
He stood up to her, and she did it again before grabbing him roughly by the arm once more, dragging him from the room and to the stairs. "Get out there, and do as you're told!"
"No," he said, his voice full of defiance. Defiance he never would have shown so openly when he was younger. So bravely... It was a side of him he dared not show on the farm.
"He called me Quin."
He put a hand to his head. Where was that comming from?
"Stop it!" he shouted, trying to back away. He heard a door creek. His mother turned to glare at the door of her daughter's bedroom.
"It's just mistaken identity. Happens all the time. He's a time traveler. Maybe it's one of your future kids he knows."
"No, it's different."
"I said STOP IT!" he shouted again. Life wasn't like this. His parents, his mother, she wasn't this cruel. She was a hard working woman. She was a kind woman. She never mistreated her children, never. His other hand flew to his head as he covered his ears. Trying to get the strange voices out of his head.
Then, silence. He was alone again. Sprawled out on the ground.
Sprawled out and looking up at the endless white. There was nothing there. There was always nothing there. But why did he feel like something was watching him... Always watching him...
I'll save you he had said. And nothing will stop me he said.
"Why..." he whispered. "Why haven't you come?..."
He faded from the whiteness.
Not again.
Not this soon.
Another scene. Another false world.
Another game from the Trickster.
---
"We're in position," JJ said, stopping just short of hopping into his chair at the controls. Jack was already seated, already trying to get to work.
"Get up."
"It's my ship."
"You blew it up."
"It's still my ship."
He shook his head. "I rebuilt this clunker, so she's mine."
"And I made the repairs."
"Boys boys. Squabble over that later. We've got a job to do," Gwen's voice said as her face came up in the corner of the screen.
"Right," JJ said, kicking the back of his chair before hopping into the co-pilot seat. Though, he did have an ace up his sleeve, as usual. After a few taps on the controls, a large section rose up and another slid over. The pieces locked into place. A reverse of what they had originally been before.
"Any word from Hart?"
"Not yet," Ianto said, his usually calm look faltering to one of brief pain. But he quickly righted himself again.
"We'll be hearing from him soon then." JJ flicked a switch on the console. "Till then, we'll just sync up with Donna. Make sure we've got all our ducks in a row."
"How'd you do it?"
"Spoilers," he said. "All I can tell you is that without her, I wouldn't be here now to save your ass."
"No, not that," Jack said.
"What? The ship? Well. Was pretty damn hard, picking up after you as always but I-"
"No!" Jack insisted. "Not that!" He looked at the young man that reminded him so much of the Doctor. But he wasn't the Doctor. He was like him, but he wasn't him. Now that he got a better look at the man, he knew this couldn't be another regeneration. If so... the beatings he gave him would have surely caused him to shift faces again.
"Then what?" he barked harshly, rising from the chair to pull down a secondary set of controls in the ceiling. The original controls, Jack noted. Not the color coded squiggles that now occupied the main computer space.
He shook his head. "Damn... the tractor beam's working at 77%... Maybe if I tweek this a bit..." he said, pulling a small tab off his wristband. "Give it a swift kick in the rear..."
"We've got communication," Ianto said suddenly.
"Good."
"Well, it's not good," Ianto replied. "Jack, Hart's gone."
"That double crossing bastard!"
"No, it's not like that. He's gone. Literally. Gone. He was there one second, but then-"
"Fuck!" JJ shouted angrily, slamming the controls back up. "He must've dropped it."
"What?"
"The Cosmic Egg," he replied. "This is going to get ugly... Donna!"
A second window opened on the screen, and there she was again. Donna. But not just Donna... No. She was something more than that.
"Stop with the shouting!" she shouted at him. "I'm the only one allowed to do the shouting 'round here sonny boy!"
"Donna, we've got a big problem. The ripples are exceeding their predicted range. I need you to do me a favor."
Jack growled. "We don't have time for this," he said.
"Shut up Jack," Donna said in that way he had seen her use with the Doctor himself. "What do you need?"
"I need you to wake up. This is a three person job, darling. Just for a little bit. I need you to step out and come manhandle the controls while Jack and I herd the tin cans to the breeches. Shouldn't be too hard."
"I can't. The Paradoxes..."
"Donna," he pleaded. "If you don't, we're all going to die. This whole planet, your home. If the ripples caught John, the rest of us aren't too much safer either."
"I'll come up," Gwen said. "You can run the ship, Jack and I will do the dirty work."
"No," he said. "You can't come outside. Trust me. Humans are far more vulnerable to this than we are. We're older, we'll be able to withstand it longer."
"You're talking like this is a suicide mission," Donna remarked.
Jack watched him. He pinched the bridge of his nose before leaning forward and planting his hands on the edge of the console. Taking a deep breath, Jack knew he was wrestling with the decisions. Risk Donna, risk the team, or risk the planet. All three were options that even Jack knew would cause more problems than they would solve.
"Ianto where are you-"
"I'm going up," he said.
"Ianto!" Jack shouted. "Stay where you are!" He jumped from his seat, pushing JJ out of the way and heading for the back.
He stared down at the buttons. Glowing, pulsing before him. He knew what he had to do... but that didn't mean he had to like it.
"Donna," he said solemnly.
"Right away," she replied.
He didn't need to finish. She knew what he had in mind. She didn't like it either, but it was the only chance they had. He was going to do something he knew was against the rules. Against everything he stood for. He was going to force something on Jack that no amount of Retcon could erase...
He was quick on his feet. He ran after Jack, and caught up with him in the cargo hold. He came up behind him, hands outstretched.
But Jack was faster. Jack always had been the better. He could never live up to the legend Jack would someday be. But perhaps he was never meant to.
The two men stood face to face, JJ with a bullet in his gut. He acted like it didn't phase him. But it hurt like hell. Right in a soft spot. A fatal spot. Right where Death was ready to take him.
But he knew, Death would not come. It would never come. Not for a creature like him.
"Jack?!" Gwen's voice was heard. "What's happened? I heard a shot! Is everyone alright?!"
The cargo bay doors opened, and Ianto was standing there looking up at them.
"What have you done?!" he shouted as JJ's body crumbled to the ground.
"It was a reflex!" Jack replied defensively. "He came up behind me-"
"You've killed us all Jack! He was our only chance at figuring out what the hell is going on!"
As Ianto climbed into the ship, he heard a cough. A gasp. A groan. And the dead body moved.
"Son of a bitch.... that stings," he said.
"But.. He's..."
"I shot you. You should have regenerated," Jack said, glaring down at him, the muzzle of the revolver pointed straight down at him. "What are you?"
He looked up past the gun. There was no fear in his eyes. And once again, Jack saw something in them he recognized. He couldn't piece it all together until now. Until this. The fresh bloodlust, the eyes of the battle weary... but it wasn't bravery or courage he saw in the man sprawled out below him. It was a fearlessness. A never ending nightmare.
"You know what I am." His voice was even, calm, but with such a subtle touch of accusation, so very small... but Jack heard it.
"How old are you?" Jack demanded of him.
"Two hundred and twenty," he replied.
It made sense now. He acted like the Doctor. But he wasn't. His name was Harkness, but not by choice like Jack's had been. "On your feet, commander," he said, holstering his revolver. "We've got work to do."
He nodded, climbing to his feet. When he was standing, he looked down at his shirt and shook his head. "And I really liked this one too," he said, turning on his heel much like Jack would often do. "Ianto, follow me. I'll show you the basics. Jack, keep the doors open. We'll be parachuting down when we reach the first hot spot."
---
[The Nothing]
"The Trickster... I should have known," John Hart said with a sneer, scraping the goo off the bottom of his boot with a toothpick. Those nasty little beatles, the henchmen of the Trickster. He should have realized it.
But there hadn't been time. He was caught between a rock and hommocidal robot. Not a good position to be in, and certainly not one that anybody would deliberately turn their back on a Cyberman to squash a giant time sucking beatle either.
"Show yourself!" Hart shouted.
"I wouldn't bother," came a voice.
Hart turned, and caught sight of the weary man and smirked. "Eyecandy part deux," he said. "Was wondering where you went off to. Looks like we're alone. No one for miles..."
Quin held up the scrap of psychic paper.
John started to swagger over, looking the human up and down and rubbed his chin as if devising a rather devilish plan. "That little paper won't work on me Lover," he said. "Remember what happened the last time."
Quin's face changed a few shades deeper before he gained control over the bloodflow to his cheeks again. "You've got your vortex manipulator?"
"Never go anywhere without it, why?"
"Before the next... whatever this place does, does it again, I need you to analyze this."
"It's just psychic paper," John said, reaching him and hooking his thumbs into the other male's trouser pockets. "Just a scrap at that."
Quin knew, from past dealings with this miscreant, it was better to play along just a little than it was to take the moral high ground. As humiliating as this was, he knew there wasn't any other way to gain the rouge agent's aid.
"Well, if you don't want to get out of here, and be stuck in memory loops for all eternity, that's fine with me," he said, a hint of mockery in his voice, but his eyes gave off a vibe of amused lust. It wasn't genuine. Quin had learned early on, had even pointed out, that Hart's bravado was a mask. He was just as submissive as Quin, if not more so when the name Harkness was involved, no matter who carried the name around with them.
Hart snatched the paper from him. "This little scrap really the key to getting out?"
"Maybe," he replied, giving a tender stroke along the other man's arm. "But we don't have much time. The Trickster, whatever he is, he's watching our every move. But... I heard JJ not long after I got here. Just his voice chased the Trickster off."
"Haven't heard him since?" Hart said, holding the scrap up and using the scanner on his wristband to check it.
"No."
"Not for lack of trying on his part," he said, tapping the little screen on his wrist.
"What?"
Hart smiled. "He's been trying to find you for 3 years," he said. "Turned over every rock on every planet he came across. Traveled with him, for a while. But those damn cats. Didn't know I actually had an allergy until those little feline bastards shed all over my pillow."
At this, Quin couldn't help but chuckle some. So... three years was it? It didn't feel like years to him. Then again, he didn't even know if time existed in this place.
"Got it," Hart said triumphantly. "It's... just a piece of paper."
"But-"
"It's just a scrap of paper Quincy," he said.
And that was the moment the pristine world around them broke.
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