Fandom: Torchwood

Characters: Jack, OC

Author: m_findlow

Rating: M (language)

Length: 3,278 words

Content notes: none

Author notes: Written for Challenge 309 - Amnesty & Challenge 84 - Drugs, Challenge 144 - Memory, and Challenge 294 - Paint

Summary: Hiding the truth is sometimes easier than facing it.


'Here we are,' Jack announced to his new companion as they stepped through the heavy cogwheel door and into the hub. 'Home sweet home. I'm sorry, by the way,' Jack apologised. And he really meant it.

It was rare he got caught out trying to retcon someone, and rarer still for the drugs not to work. Convincing people to take offerings from him had always been the easy part of the job. There was nothing he couldn't do once he armed hismelf with that charming smile and reassuring tone of voice. Here's some aspirin for that headache. I've got a bottle of water here if you're thirsty. Why don't we just pop into the kitchen for a bit and I'll make you some tea. He'd done it so many times it was like running through a script. Sometimes when he was out, his attention not completely taken by something alien - like when he was down at the supermarket picking up groceries just like anyone else - he'd spot a familiar face of someone he'd retconned. He half expected them to do a double take, maybe point a finger at him, but they didn't. They stared right through him with the same level of disinterest as they did when studying the back of a can of tomato soup.

Tonight hadn't felt any different to any other night. Jack got a rift alert, he went and dealt with it. Unfortunately by the time he'd arrived, the large insect creature had already killed a young man after it had been dumped in the yard and then broken into the house. Jack hadn't hesitated putting several special purpose jacketed bullets through its hard shell exterior, piercing the soft body inside. He'd seen these things before and they were neither sentient nor friendly. The man's housemate, a young black man named Tony, had borne witness to the entire thing, including watching his friend being partly eaten.

Jack had taken Tony out to sit by the front door, assuring him that police and paramedics were on their way. He snapped the cap off a fresh bottle of water from the SUV and sat down on an upended milk crate beside him as he sculled the water. Three minutes tops, Jack knew, until Tony would be lolled against his side, able to coax him into his bed where he'd sleep off tonight's horrors.

Three minutes went by. Then five. Then ten.

Tony turned to him. 'Where are they, man? You said they was coming. Jesus. Marcus is in there with that... thing. He's dead, man. He's-'

Tony was beginning to get panicky. Jack grabbed him firmly by the shoulders. 'It's okay. Just relax.'

'Relax?'

Jack couldn't understand why the retcon wasn't working. He should be comatose by now. 'Tony, do you do drugs?'

'No, man. I'm clean. The odd joint here and there, that's all, I swear. We don't do hard gear.' Tony flinched as Jack's grip tightened. To the clutched his left arm and Jack noticed the gash in his dark jacket.

'You're hurt?'

Tony shrugged him off. 'One of those pincer things snagged me when I was trying to get out of there. It only stings a bit.'

'Damn it,' Jack swore. 'The venom must be counteracting the retcon.'

'The what?'

'The drugs I gave you so you'd forget any of this ever happened.' Jack stood up and began pacing up and down the short front path, trying to figure out what to do. How long would the effects last? Could he come back and try again tomorrow?

'You drugged me?' Tony asked. He sounded curious more than upset.

'It was for the best,' Jack replied.

Toby looked up at him. 'And you don't, like, have more of it?'

Jack twirled at the response. 'More?'

Tony hunched over, beginning to beat his fists against his head. 'I can still hear it, man. That thing squealing inside my head. I was hoping the paramedics could give me something but they're not really coming, are they?'

Jack heaved out a sigh. 'No, they're not.'

Tony slapped his head again and Jack reached toward him to stop him hurting himself. 'Look, there's something I can try. A stronger dose, perhaps.'

'For real?'

'No guarantees. But I need you to come with me.' Taking Tony back to the hub was his only option. There had to be something he could do. He'd need to mix a higher dose of retcon to wipe the memories of the past few hours. He couldn't be left remembering what had happened, watching his best friend killed and himself next on their list if Jack hadn't intervened at just the right moment.

Tony nodded and let Jack draw him to his feet, leading him to the SUV and guiding him into the passenger seat. 'I just need you to stay here for a few minutes whislt I get rid of that thing in there.' He locked the SUV from the outside, just in case and marched back into the house with a large body bag to remove the remains. Both the alien insect and what was left of poor Marcus would have to fit in the same bag. He didn't want to leave Tony on his own any longer than he had to.

He made quick work of bundling everything into the bag, wiping up the few bits of blood spatter and stripping off his gloves before dumping them inside the bag as well removing all evidence, and lugging it back to the car, dumping it in the boot.

'You okay?' he asked as he slid into the driver's seat.

Tony gave one last sad look at the house and nodded.

Jack parked in the underground car park and lead Tony inside via a secret passage. He'd been quiet during the short trip to the hub.

'How are you feeling?' Jack asked. He lowered the man onto the sofa, still shaky from the semi-paralysing alien venom injected into his system. Jack's blundering attempts to retcon him hadn't helped, adding a sense of lethargy. That part of the retcon was still trying its best, even though it was more of an afterthought, adding a sedative into the mix.

Tony's head drifted slowly from side to side, taking in the scene. There were only a few lights on in the hub and they cast gloomy shadows over the harsh metal framing and drab concrete walls. 'This place is fucking grim, man. Like a morgue.'

Jack nodded to himself. There were days when this place made him feel more dead than alive. It was like a prison sentence that just never seemed to end, with him sitting around every single day like a man on death row, wondering if today would be the day the guards finally came for him. Some days, he wished they would, so that they could put an end to it for him.

This whole place is your gaff?

Jack set his hands on his hips and gave the place a cursory inspection. 'Right down to the very last mildew covered tile.'

'Anyone else here?'

'Just me,' Jack confirmed. He didn't like talking about the old days and remembering when this place had been full of life. 'Stay here and I'll be back,' he said, jogging down the steps of the mortuary to collect the chemicals and equipment he'd need. He tugged open the small cupboard doors, rifling through the glass vials of powdered chemicals with their fading, tattered labels. Others were in boxes, standard prescription drugs which could be broken down and mixed in. A small set of digital medical scales and some spatulas got added to his collection until he had everything he needed.

Jack brought the armful of things he'd collected and spread them across what had once been the desk of someone he'd adored working with. All that hard work and bubbly personality and all she'd gotten as thanks was a bullet from Alex Hopkins.

Tony had been busy running a more critical eye over the place. 'Torchwood,' he said, having read the sign above his head emblazoned on the murky tiles. 'It's real then.'

'It's real,' Jack confirmed. 'There's a rift in time and Alice that hangs over the city. Stuff comes through it from other planets and Torchwood deals with it.'

'Shitty job you have.'

'It's just temporary,' Jack assured him. Temporary for the last hundred years.

'You're hitching to get out of here by the sound of things.'

Jack carefully measured out each of the powdered substances in turn, measuring them by weight and making some notes on a piece of paper as he went, trying to get the proportions right. Too much of any one thing could kill Tony. Proportions worked only up to a point. He scribbled a few calculations and them satisfied himself he had the right amounts before adding them to a small metal bowl. 'More than you know.'

'What's on the other side?'

Jack wasn't sure if he meant the other side of Torchwood or the other side of life. Either way the answer was the same. 'Something way better.'

'But you're still here.'

'Yep.' Jack sighed. 'Still here.'

'I feel you, man. You got accounts to settle before you go. I respect that.'

Jack let his eyes drift up from what he was doing, breaking his concentration. Perhaps he did. Why else was he still pounding the pavement every single day trying to protect this city from the things that came through the rift. They had no control over it - didn't even realise it was happening for the most part - but that didn't mean they deserved it. Someone had to be here to protect them from it. He didn't exactly know why it had to be him, but he'd seen enough of the kinds of people who had drifted in and out of Torchwood over the years to know that there were a decent few who he didn't want to be the ones so-called in charge of keeping Cardiffs citizens safe, or it's aliens for that matter. They didn't understand, or care, that the aliens were in need of just as much protection, if not more. They needed someone like Jack in their corner, someone who was, he supposed, a bit alien hismelf, even if he looked for all the world a normal twenty first century human being. Most things that came through the rift had no say in the matter. And many, just like Jack himself, were stuck here and could never go home. They were all working together to try and make being here as good as it could be.

Jack could feel Tony's eyes in him as he stirred the mixture together, double checking his numbers again.

'This drug you gonna give me gonna work this time?'

'This is a lot stronger,' Jack told him. 'That alien venom in your system overpowered a standard dose. This'll counteract its effects.'

'No harm?'

'Not even the residual of a bad trip.' He paused. 'You might need more than one coffee in the morning to clear the fog,' he warned. At least he hoped so. Mixing a dose this strong had never been done before. It should be enough to wipe out the last twenty four hours, but it might steal a bit more. Just not too much he prayed.

Tony nodded. 'You a good one. Something like this happen to me out on the street and a brother gets shot, you know? Problem solved. That's how things get done.'

Jack bristled at the insinuation. That was how Torchwood used to get things done, too. Killing was the easy way out. Torchwood was gone now though. Well, London was still there, but his Torchwood... It was just him now, and he was going to do things his way. His hand stopped over the bowl. Accounts to settle. Was that what this was? Why hadn't he seen it earlier? He could've hung around and done nothing, sealed off the hub so that Torchwood One couldn't get in, and just holed himself up here until the Doctor came back, but he hadn't. He'd carried on, doing the work of a whole team of people, watching over the rift, collecting the things that came out of it, doing what he could to keep the city safe. He wasn't obligated, he didn't owe them a damn thing, not after the way they'd treated him. But if the Doctor were here he knew that this was what he'd do. It was the right thing to do. As much as he might want to, he couldn't give up on this place. Everyone needed someone looking out for them.

He tipped the powder into the pill press, pulled down on the handle and released it, revealing ten new super strength retcon pills. He only needed one, but who knew whether he'd need them again. Maybe he could take them himself. How many would he need to erase ten lifetimes? A dose strong enough to wipe put his memories was likely to kill him, and then what? He'd be right back at square one. For the first time he realised that there was no way out for him. His only option was to see this through, whatever and wherever it lead.

'What's this gonna be like for me on the other side? Marcus is still dead, man.'

Jack sucked in a deep breath and let it back out. 'You wake up and the police knock on your door. They say Marcus cut a bad deal with someone, got some junk pills and overdosed. They know the dealer and you've got a rock solid alibi. There's no procedural justice for him because he crossed someone last week and ended up with lead between his ears and his body dumped in the river. His own mother won't even miss him. No suspicion is laid on you. It's all just a courtesy call. You mourn and you move on.'

Tony grimaced. 'That's rough, man. You made all that up just now?'

'That's what I do. I cover up the truth. Everything changes but the world isn't yet ready to know what's really out there.'

'Why you?'

Jack slumped down to sit on the sofa next to Tony, feeling weary himself. 'Because I know too much already.' He could see all the way two thousand years and more into the future. This world was nowhere near ready for any of it. He handed over the single white pill, pinched between his fingers, so small and yet full of so much potential.

'I appreciate this,' Tony told him. 'I don't wanna remember any of this. Marcus, he was my best mate, for real. Like family man. I don't wanna wake up and hear those screams again. Maybe that makes me a pussy.'

'It doesn't,' Jack assured him. 'At least you get to forget,' Jack said, a dark melancholy seeping into his words and his expression.

Tony glanced around the hub again, taking it all in before it would be erased forever. 'I wanna repay you.'

Jack shook his head. 'It's not necessary.'

'No serious, man. You've done a brother a massive favour. Appreciate it.'

'I don't need money.' He doubted Tony had the means to pay him in any case. He lived on an estate in a part of town that wasn't known for its neatest garden awards and neighbourhood watch gold star rating.

Tony considered what else he could offer as payment. 'You say you're sticking around here for a while, yeah?'

The century had to turn twice. The girl with the tarot cards never said how far into the century he'd have to wait. It was only 2001. He might be stuck here another ninety years. That thought alone nearly broke him. He nodded mutely, afraid his voice would crack.

'I've got some skills with a spray can. Do you some artwork.'

Jack raised an eyebrow at him. 'Artwork?'

Tony pointed up at a large swathe of drab grey wall next to the old boardroom and the gangway that snaked all the way around it towards the other side of the hub. 'Got some cans?'

Jack leaned forward on his elbow, glancing between the empty space on the landing above, and his charge on the sofa. 'Somewhere. But I thought you wanted to forget?'

'I can live with it a few more hours. Gonna get you a proper Welsh dragon on there and everything. Make this place more street, you know what I mean?'

Jack didn't, but he retrieved the paints anyway. Having some company, even just for a few hours, someone who wasn't totally freaked out, was nice. There was no one Jack could talk to. Not for more than five minutes, anyway.

For a short while, Jack watched with interest as Tony pawed through that crate of cans Jack had found buried in the archives. The first few lines Tony sprayed on the wall made no sense to Jack, but eventually it took on some shape. Tony had taken junk that Jack had no use for and was creating something beautiful with it. It made Jack jealous. He had all this stuff here and it felt like nothing he did resulted in anything joyful. All the technology in the world and he still struggled to make the city a better place.

Jack didn't realised he'd dropped off to sleep, dozing upright on the sofa until Tony's hand was gently shaking his shoulder. Jack muffled an incoherent sound as his head cleared. Sorry, dozed off, Jack said, rubbing his face. 'You okay?'

Tony's fingers and forearms were tinged with red and black paint. 'Yeah, man. I'm done. You wanna come see?'

The climb up the spiral staircase worked the blood flow back into Jack, waking him up properly. When he saw the mural the for first time, completed, he was more than impressed. It was fearsome for something made out of paint and nothing more. 'It's fantastic.'

Tony looked pleased, the tiredness from the retcon having worked its way out of his system. 'There you go. Not bad for a brother for the ghetto, huh?'

Jack nodded. 'Not bad at all.'

'I even signed it. T for Torchwood but you'll know it was really T for Tony. T for thank you.'

'I love it. Really.' He'd never put his mark on the place but now it felt right. It was his. His job. His hub. His Torchwood. Jack cast a glance down at the desk. His retcon pills were still lying there. 'You can go, if you want. I won't make you take those pills.'

Tony drew in a breath and let it out, taking one last look at the artwork he'd created. 'I want to. I know it means I won't remember you, but that's okay. You'll still know what you did for me. That's enough.' He fixed Jack with a sad look. 'But you shouldn't be on your own here.'

'It's too dangerous.'

Tony chuckled. 'Danger is walking out your front door each day, man. You never know when some brother is gonna wipe you out. But that's life, man. Don't mean I just hole up and hide from it. Gotta live, man. Gotta have friends.' He looked around the expanse of the hub. 'Not like you don't got the room.'

It was Jack's turn to chuckle. 'True.'

Tony reached down into his pocket and extracted the pill Jack had given him. He swallowed it dry without hesitation before leaning back against his dragon, and sliding down to the floor. He gave Jack a little salute. 'Peace out, man.'

Jack watched him drift unconscious. 'Peace out, Tony.'