"Tbrae!" K'Nar screamed with joy when she saw her friend in the company of one of H'Tarle's officers, and took off to meet her. She stopped short when she saw the empty expression her friend's face. She had the same lifeless eyes and blank look that her lord had when she'd found him. "Oh TBrae, I'm so sorry." K'Nar sobbed as she pulled the numb girl into her arms.
H'Tarle looked at his officer who smiled. "I found her hiding in a cupboard. Smart little thing, she'd locked the door from the inside. Took me ten minutes to prove that we were the good guys."
"See if she can pick out her attacker, and then get them all to the medics for transport to the Healing Centre. A female prisoner from the cells said they took her daughter. Send a team to scour the man --" H'Tarle didn't get the chance to finish the order. A piercing scream cut across the chatter filled hall. He looked up to see one of his men carrying a child no more than five and watched the relieved woman rush to retrieve her daughter. The success of this raid was a source of immense pride for the tired Inspector. The evil beings in this mansion would go away forever, and no one died. He felt terrible for the four humans, though. He knew they considered their mission a failure.
H'Tarle stood with Jack outside the K'Nar's healing centre room, watching Amy and River try to comfort the child. For two hours, the two human women cajoled, rocked, and even sang lullabies in a vain attempt to calm her down, but weeks of her own torture combined with seeing her Lord and T'Brae brutalised, finally came crashing in on the child. K'Nar collapsed in grief when she watched T'Brae collapse, screaming in terror at the sight of her abuser. Each time, the two women stepped away from her, she would descend into hysterics. Finally, the healers had no choice, but to sedate her. He understood why the two women wanted to sit with her, but it was time to go.
"I'm sorry ladies," he said softly, "but I must get back to the station, and finish processing the last of the prisoners."
"We're coming as soon as she is asleep," River answered softly.
"Poor little thing, I've never had so many victims requiring sedation." H'Tarle shook his head and looked at Jack. "They tried to take the little girl for an exam and her mother attacked the healer. She thought they were stealing her again. Half a dozen of the servants had to be sedated when they found out they were free. They just fell to their knees crying. The stories, my men are getting from them, will put that -- what did Amy call her?"
"Bitch," Jack replied. "It's not a nice term."
"So I gathered," H'Tarle replied with a chuckle as Amy and River joined them.
"What?" River asked.
"Nothing, linguistics education," Jack quipped.
"Well, let's go, then." River whispered.
With her private attendant sitting next to her, stroking her head, the foursome cast one last look at the now sleeping teen. "How long before her parents get here?" River asked as they walked out the door.
"Three days, maybe four, and I promise you, Curly Top -- she will have protection around the clock. The healers assigned a private caretaker to her and to T'Brae."
"What about T'Brae; what will happen to her?" Amy asked sadly.
"We'll find her parents and hopefully ... hopefully -- she'll recover, but .... Anyway, we have to go."
By Jack's chronometer, it was one in the morning when the four walked out of the healing centre to the waiting hover. Too exhausted to do more than grunt their responses, the short trip to the Justice Centre was made in silence. The day's events were difficult to process. The four humans leaned back against their seats trying to wrap their brains around their dismal failure. Processing K'Nar's story gave them as much trouble. If it were true, they had no idea what the consequences would be for the Doctor. Murdering NaV0 in as many fascinating ways as possible played against the backdrop of his suffering. No one cared about the Doctor's rules against revenge.
"Damn," H'Tarle said quietly as the hover flew over the front of the Justice Centre. "How did they get here?"
"Look at that," Rory smirked as he glanced out the craft's window at the crowd of news crews gathered in front of the building. "No matter the world, there's always a news crews, isn't there?"
They were all too tired do to more than chuckle at the comment. Thirty seconds later, the craft settled gently behind the centre in the security lot. Rory stood and helped his exhausted wife disembark. The cold, night air snapped the humans out of their exhausted state. Halfway to the building, Rory stopped to stare at the TARDIS parked in a secluded corner of the lot and made a quick decision.
"Rory?" River looked at her father who stood with his arm around Amy's waist.
"You go on with H'Tarle and Jack. I'm taking Amy back to the TARDIS."
"Rory, I'm fine," Amy protested. "I want to see the look on that thing's face when they lock her in a cell."
"Yeah, well, first we need to fix your hand. You wouldn't let the healers even look at it. "
"He's right, Red." Jack interjected. "Get your hand fixed. We'll fill you in."
Too tired to give more than a token protest, Amy let Rory take her back to the ship.
"She's a piece of work," Jack muttered lovingly as he and River watched the young couple walk away.
"Yes -- she is," River said proudly. "Shall we?" She flashed a saucy smile at Jack as she slipped her arm through his.
Jack grinned. "Right, this way Madam."
"I'm locking the door in two," H'Tarle called over his shoulder as he headed for the back entrance to his station.
"Needril," H'Tarle yelled as the three walked in the warmth of the building.
"Yes sir?"
"Go out front, and make some sort of statement to that vtach. Get rid of them, they're clogging up the street," he ordered as he unbuckled his weapons belt and handed it off to one of his men. "Captain, Curly Top, let's go watch us a show."
"The raid is news, sir. Calling them names won't make us look good," Needril said with a grin.
"Yeah, well, I'm tired, and that's why I have you -- Supervisor," The man said with a snide tone and a tired smile. H'Tarle turned and headed for prisoner intake with Jack and River close behind.
Prisoner intake consisted of three separate areas. A half-dozen computer desks for recording prisoner information and generating new I.D.'s. filled one half of the room. The other half housed the scanning equipment for final processing into the jail. The area was quiet now, the bulk of the prisoners already locked away in secure cells. All but the last five. They were special.
"I told Needril to save this little group for you," H'Tarle said solemnly.
Jack and River both broke into broad grins at the sight of the remaining, tired and somewhat bedraggled prisoners. Especially NaV0. The woman sat dejected, her once elegant ball gown now rumpled, her makeup smeared and locks of her hair had fallen from her once styled hair. She sat on a metal bench with Moron, Malorick and his two companions, chained to the wall.
"It's too perfect," River growled as Heegla unchained Moron. The four didn't quite catch what the man said to the officer, but before anyone could move, Heegla punched him in the face.
"Heegla, what are you doing?" H'Tarle yelled at the young officer.
"My hand had a spasm, sir. Sorry about that. Won't happen again," he called back to his boss.
H'Tarle wanted the humans to see the prisoners begin their journey into the legal system. He wanted them to see and understand that no matter how hard it was; cooler heads had to prevail. Watching Heegla belt a prisoner wasn't what he had planned -- exactly. He glanced over to see both grinning. So much for payback, he thought.
"I don't condone beating up prisoners," he said defensively as he grinned at them.
"Didn't think you did," Jack said facetiously.
The next three went without incident. One by one, the crowd on the bench went down until NaV0 was alone and still defiant. River stood up and edged her way closer to the woman she hated wanting nothing more than to add a second shiner to the rather nice one left by Amy’s punch. Her mind churned with thoughts of exactly what she wanted to do to this piece of human trash. An officer held a container ordering her to drop her jewellery. And, then -- she was ordered to strip.
"I'm not stripping out here," NaVO shouted at Needril. "Where's my justice representative? These are a violation of my rights under the Galactic Justice treaty. "
"You have no rights, and you will strip, or we will do it for you," Needril responded coldly.
Listening to her, made River's skin crawl, but watching Heegla and a fellow officer wrestle the woman to the scanner, pry open her eyes and hold her in position as first the 3-D retinal and then neural scan were completed, broadened her smile. No one cared that her dignity had been violated . Watching the officer assign NaV0 a prison number and inject a tracker between her shoulder blades helped a little bit more. Madam NaV0 ceased to exist, she was now prisoner CCIV.
Still, for River, it wasn' enough. Even if, the courts on this planet executed her, it wouldn’t be enough. It would never be enough. River had no interest in some tragic life history, or how the justice system would work to punish criminals; she wanted revenge. A smile played across her face as she made plans on how to destroy the piece of filth the guards were now leading away. It actually wouldn’t be that hard. The cellular bomb she had given Dorian would do. It was undetectable, and no one would be able to link her to the event.
Knowing Jack and H’Tarle were watching made her smile broaden further into a sly grin. Neither man moved or said a word, but River could smell their anger -- and their worry. She decided to add to the show Heegla had unwittingly provided. As the guard reached the door leading to the cells with his prisoner, she walked over.
“Give me one second,” she asked softly.
The guard glanced at his boss who just nodded. River smiled at the men watching her and then leaned close to the woman’s ear whispering. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hit you, Sweetie. You should know -- there will come a time in the middle of the night, when no one is watching, you will hear a noise, and you will look up, and there I will be. The very last thing you will ever see or hear. Remember the name, River Song.”
River stepped back, enjoying the woman’s stunned look. “I’m going back to the TARDIS.” River smiled as she walked out of the Justice Centre.
Jack watched the woman sashay out the door wondering for the hundredth time just what crime River committed to wind up incarcerated in Stormcage. From the look on NaVo’s face, he was extremely sure it had nothing to do with taxes. Revenge played in all their heads, but Jack had a feeling River actually would do it. He needed to get the tired group off this planet before anything else could go wrong.
H’Tarle handed Jack a drink. “What do you think she said?”
Jack took a breath and then swallowed the burning liquid before he spoke, “Don’t know, but I don’t think she invited her out for a drink.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“You mean besides get them off your planet before they decide to storm the cells?”
“Question crossed my mind.” H’Tarle swallowed his liquor. “I don’t think Rory would try anything, but those women?”
“They are a pair, aren’t they?” Jack swallowed his in one gulp and poured another. “You always drink after a raid like that?”
“Only when I need to keep from killing the prisoners, so, what’s next?”
How the bloody hell should I know. Jack thought. “Go home and start over,” he answered before he took another swallow. “Even with his head screwed on backwards, he can use a manipulator well enough to get home. That’s where we start. What about the kid?”
"I've sent word to the Shadow Proclamation. Her parents are on the way with their guard. The Shadow Proclamation is sending a Judoon fleet to escort them safely home."
"You know, this is a mess, right?" Jack stared straight ahead.
"Yes, Captain for all of us. But rest assured, these -- things are never going to see daylight on any planet, ever."
"I forgot to congratulate you, H'Tarle." Jack changed the subject.
"For what?" The Avian humanoid arched a feathered eyebrow in curiosity.
"You are one hell of a con artist. You would have done the Time Agency proud," Jack replied lightly.
H'Tarle snickered at the compliment. "Like I said, it takes time to make someone believe you're a crooked political hack, and I'm a patient man."
Jack flashed an appreciative look at the man and chuckled. "Never asked; what did you tell NaV0?"
H’Tarle snorted. "Promise not to tell?"
"I promise."
"The name of our mole. I just loved her expression, didn't you?"
"Yes, it was -- as they say, priceless." Jack laughed at the memory of the woman suddenly going pale. "Who was it?"
"NaV0's son. He truly hates his mother. He actually came to us, seems that she had his wife murdered. The girl was trying to help him stay out of trouble. She was pregnant when NaV0 had her neck snapped."
"I'll be damned," was all Jack could say before slapping the man on the back. "You have that communication code for me. It will reach me no matter where I am. Let us know the date of the trial."
"I will, Captain." H'Tarle took the smaller man's hand in a Regulun handshake and then pulled him into a hug. "You four renew my faith in humans."
When Jack stepped back into the TARDIS, he found the three friends quietly drinking tea in the galley, each lost in their own thoughts. From their expressions Jack, he knew visions of the hell hole were running through their heads. It added to the guilt and rage already filling the room. Even the TARDIS had gone quiet.
“We need to get off this planet, River.” Jack stood next to her, giving her a tight smile. “We have to go, and she won’t let me fly her. I can fix her, but she’s never let me fly her.”
River smiled back, got up and headed for the control room. A moment later, the time ship drifted in the vortex and unknown to River, the ship had plans of her own. She'd failed to force her Thief to rest; she didn’t intend to make the mistake twice. She would give the weary group a chance to catch their breath before she would take them back.
River couldn‘t get the image of the man she loved strapped across a table out of her head. Nowhere in the whole front to back, back to front, thing had this happened. His entire timeline was changing and it terrified her. It was selfish, and she knew it, but she still couldn’t help wonder what it would do to hers. The sound of footsteps on the metal stairs snapped her from the scenario running through her head.
“Does anyone get the feeling we’ve been manipulated?” River asked the three as they joined her.
“By who?” Amy asked as she plopped down on the jump seat.
“I don’t know, but this is wrong on so many levels." River looked over at her mother. "From you badgering him to change a fixed point in time to forces manipulating the TARDIS to land in a place she didn’t want to go, this is wrong. All our timelines are changing, and I don’t know why.”
“What about this group that kidnapped your baby,” Jack asked Rory.
When River looked over at him, the Rotor's green glow amplified the look of exhausted rage etched on his face.
Rory joined Amy on the jump seat. “All we know is that they are a religious order of some sort, and they hate the Doctor. We don’t know why.”
“Is it possible, they would have gone after him?” Jack stood up and looked at the three who just shrugged.
"That doesn't make sense. They'd already targeted the baby of his best friends, why go after him afterwards?" River replied as she quietly input the coördinates for the Hub.
“Can he heal himself? I mean, he’s not hurt badly enough to regenerate, but can he heal himself? The whole healing coma thing he told me about.” Rory asked. “He explained it before Demons Run, just in case something happened to him. I’m a nurse, I always worry.” He almost apologized.
“No,” River walked around the console and patted his arm, “he can’t. Unlike regeneration, a healing coma is a choice. It’s like -- going into a deep meditative state. Then he chooses to go a bit further and stays that way until he’s healed his injuries.”
“So, if he can’t remember that he can make the choice,” Rory asked quietly, “he what -- suffers like the rest of us?”
“Pretty much, the difference being, in the hands of human medical care, they are going to want to know why he has two hearts, and a respiratory bypass system that looks like what?” Jack asked. “I don’t have the answer for that, since we never did chest surgery on him, and I don’t think it shows up on an MRI.”
“No, it‘s actually connected to his skin, which has microscopic channels, that absorb oxygen only when his lungs can’t, and then it pumps oxygen to his brain,” River answered. “How much of this is different since K’Nar played chameleon arch is anybody’s guess.”
“What about his blood? There are lots of NaV0’s in the universe, who would love to have a vial of his blood. Does what she did, affect that?” Amy interjected, remembering how they had burned his older self’s body. “So -- what do we do?”
All River could do was shrug her shoulders in response.
“We go home,” Jack answered as he took a deep breath.
“We can’t,” River announced. “The TARDIS thinks we’re over wrought. She won’t let us land until we’ve eaten and rested.”
“You are kidding, old girl.” Jack fussed at the ship, only to receive an immediate unpleasant buzz in his head. “Guess not. You do still have universal phone service, don't you? Can I at least make a call?” Jack asked the TARDIS, walking around the console to the phone. He dialled his office number, relieved to hear Gwen answer.
“Jack, did you find him?” Gwen asked her voice filled with concern.
“No, and it’s complicated. We think he's jumped back to Earth by vortex manipulator. I need you to build a cover story using his latest picture. A new birth date, school records name Jonathon Theta Smith, astrophysicist on loan to us yada, yada. Put out a BOLO. While on a research tour, our scientist disappeared and we suspect that terrorist have him. It’s been over three weeks, and European searches were unproductive, and we are now searching worldwide. Make sure the British embassies know to report any reports of Brits matching his description to us. Make sure they know that we have reports that his injured, and may have amnesia. Include his unique medical needs secondary to his inherited birth anomalies and that he has a life-threatening allergy to aspirin. If and when he is found they need to contact Martha as his physician. Let UNIT in on all of this as well. This is one time we need all the help we can get.”
“Jack, what happened? We haven’t planted stuff like this in a long time.”
“It’s a long story." Jack's voice dripped with exhaustion. "We are on the way home. Just -- have my bottle of vodka ready,” he said softly grateful for his friend's concern. His voice trembled with emotion that he found hard to hide from Gwen.
+
“Welcome home sir,” Ianto greeted his boss with a tray holding a bottle of bourbon and four glasses as the weary foursome stepped out of the TARDIS seconds after materialising in the HUB. For Ianto and Gwen, three hours since had passed since they left, but two, long, frustrating days had passed for the travellers. “Couldn’t find the vodka.”
“Thanks, Yan," he said as he glanced at the glasses and grabbed the bottle. "Gwen, how are we doing on his story?” He ignored Ianto's concerned look as he headed for his office knowing that they would all follow him.
“Oi, don’t get greedy with that bottle.” Rory grabbed a glass, and followed.
“I didn’t think you would drink the really hard stuff?” Jack grinned, a bit surprised. He didn’t see Rory or Amy with anything stronger than wine.
“Normally, I keep it to stag parties, but after today -- Amy, River”
“Just hand me a glass.” Amy bumped her husband, “After the first one, I’ll let you know.”
Now Jack was genuinely surprised, but then it had been a truly lousy couple of days, and his first impressions had been entirely wrong. He didn’t think Amy was capable of throwing a punch let alone knocking NaVo on her backside. He felt a bit like a proud uncle knowing your cute little niece could defend herself against the school bully. Being Scottish and ginger probably had a bit to do with it. In a way she reminded him of Donna. That woman didn’t take any nonsense either.
Jack hated to admit, even to himself, but he'd been wrong -- about all three.
River snagged the last glass from the tray. “I’ll take the bourbon,” she said while reaching for the bottle. She swallowed the amber liquid and refilled the glass as she spoke, “I’ve programmed the TARDIS to hide behind the moon and run a thorough scan, starting fifty years in either direction. She’ll keep scanning until she finds him. She’ll be leaving about...” The sounds of the dematerializing ship filled the hallway, “now,” she said as she finished her second shot.
The three found a seat in Jack's small office, more than ready to nurse the drink of their choice. Jack lifted his glass to Ianto who took the signal and dragged Gwen back to their desks. Jack was grateful that the young Welshman understood that they needed a few minutes to decompress and would come back when the foursome needed them.
Jack dropped heavily into his seat, pulled open a desk drawer and grabbed the water-glass he kept when he wanted to get a little drunk -- like now. He filled the glass a third full, propped his long legs on the desk, toasted Owen and Tosh in silence and took a long taking a drink. His visitors watched in disbelief as Mcfanway flew down from the rafters.
"That's .... That's a pterodactyl," Rory finally spoke.
"Yeah, it's our pet," Jack answered proudly as he finished the bourbon and refilled his glass. "He fell through the rift. Well, more flew than fell. He likes chocolate." He chuckled softly.
Too stunned to say anything else, the three visitors stared out the window and watched the creäture make slow loops at the ceiling. Slowly, as their drinks kicked in, they each relaxed into the couch. The quiet gave Jack a chance to study the faces of the other three as they nursed their drinks in silence. The look in their eyes was enough to tell him that same images of the Doctor strapped to a table in his head that were stuck on replay in his head, was replaying the same way in theirs. Those images burned his very soul. There wasn't alcohol in the universe to obliterate them.
By the time, he started on his third, a slight buzz began to replace the rage. The knots in his shoulder began to relax. He didn’t intend to get drunk, at least not yet. He tried to organise his thoughts, but it was hard. He was glad Rory refused to let Amy see the vids. Just hearing what happened was bad enough. Spunky or not, that was the last thing the young red-head needed to see -- ever.
River worried him. Whatever she’d said to NaVo, it sent the woman white, and that was saying something. Since then, River hadn’t said much, at least not to him. Despite the smile, her eyes were cold. From the worried looks Rory and Amy kept shooting her way, he knew they were worried about her too. As soon as they managed to cobble a new plan together, he’d find what remained of his bottle of hyper-vodka, take Ianto, and disappear down into his room. It had been awhile, and tonight he didn’t care what Yan did, as long as Jack could feel something besides deep, burning rage.
Finally, fifteen minutes after he sat down, Jack found his voice. "Gwen!" he yelled a little harsher than intended.
Gwen picked up the dossier she and Ianto constructed and headed up the steps. "You don't need to bark, Jack," she fussed.
"Sorry, I...." He realised he was maybe a tad drunk when he saw Gwen roll her eyes. "We need a place to put our guests up, somewhere close. I'll explain in a minute," he answered the questioning look on River and the Ponds faces. "First," he looked up at Gwen, "How’s our new cover story coming?” Jack asked, glad that he was back in boss mode.
“I just talked to Martha.” She handed him the dossier. “She’s tied up at UNIT for the next couple of hours. She’ll call you as soon as she can. Now, Jonathon Theta Smith was born October 28, 1985 to Verity and Lethbridge Smith in North Hampton, England. He had one brother, Tennyson. His parents died in a house fire when he was ten and a terrorist killed his brother three years ago. You said he might have amnesia so we threw that part in if he has some residual memory of Gallifrey or what happened before he regenerated.”
Gwen smiled when her boss nodded appreciatively at their thoroughness.
“Anyway,” she continued, “he graduated from Cambridge University in 2000 at fifteen. He is officially the youngest graduate in the history of the university. He received his doctorate in Quantum Mechanics in 2002 and a second Doctorate in Astrophysics in 2005, at the ripe old age of 20. They didn’t want to give him the degree because of his age, but --” Gwen gave Jack a cheeky smile, “his Uncle Jack pulled strings. He is now on loan to Torchwood from UNIT as science advisor, a position held by his father and his grandfather. He is the youngest lead advisor working in our area of expertise.”
She gave Jack a chance to pass the dossier around before she continued.
"We’ve notified every major law enforcement agency worldwide that he’s gone missing. We planted backdated reports and upgraded it, dated yesterday. The report indicated our intelligence shows that terrorists may try to force him to work on some form of a WMD.”
“How, did you do this?” Amy was awestruck at the records in her hands. “You’ve given him baby pictures, school pictures, and family pictures. You even have pictures with Rory and me with him when we were kids. How -- did -- you do this?” She repeated as she fingered through the pictures, trying to imagine the Doctor as a bouncing baby boy.
“Actually, it’s not that hard. We have pictures of all his faces, and we have a computer program that can do age regression. Torchwood can plant anything in the records, and it would be nearly impossible to prove it isn’t real. Plant a few false memories in key people and the rest, as they say, is history.” Ianto took the file back. “It’s what I do.” from anyone else, his answer would have sounded smug, but for Ianto -- his ability was fact.
“This is -- impressive, but was it really necessary to throw the terrorist angle in. What if it snags the wrong attention?” River worried. “What if he’s in the past or in the future?”
“If he’s in the past, we can swoop in and get him. No big deal, but even blind and deaf,” Jack answered, "the Doc can programme a vortex manipulator well enough to get back to Earth in our time. He might screw up the coördinates, but I’m betting he’s got the time right to a T. Even Swiss cheesed, his brain wouldn’t let him screw that up."
“What if they decide to arrest him or something?” Amy asked quietly.
“They won’t. They will be under orders to protect him at all costs just as soon as we get clearance from whatever government where he’s located. What about the plane?”
“The plane is on red alert fully stocked with all necessary medical supplies. Martha can now practice through UNIT anywhere in the States and on the Continent. Before I can arrange anything else, I need to know what else to expect, Sir,” Ianto answered.
Jack took a breath. “Remember what I told you guys about our year on the Valiant.”
Gwen and Ianto both frowned, telling that story occurred one night after the team learnt the Doctor regenerated; they’d held their own wake for a friend.
It had been the hardest story Jack ever told. It was hell on board that ship, especially for Jack and the Doctor. No one discussed the Valiant again.
“Think Valiant compressed into over three weeks of hell ending with three guys who...” Jack’s voice hitched at the memory. “Anyway, it’ll be a while before we can leave the Doctor alone. In addition, a lovely young telepath thought she was helping by telepathically retcon’d ninety-nine percent of his life. Just to make things interesting she managed to switch off the parts of his brain that make him Time Lord, and tricked his body into being human. It’s the damndest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“So we’ll need Doctor Harrison too?” It always impressed Jack how Ianto could use such detached professionalism, even in the worst scenarios.
“Whose Doctor Harrison?” Rory asked, taking a swallow of the bourbon. The liquid burned his throat as it went down, reminding him why he never would become an alcoholic.
“Doctor Harrison is UNIT’s xenopsychiatrist,” Gwen answered. "She’s the only trained psychiatrist we have that specializes in dealing with issues of PTSD in aliens."
“The Doctor doesn’t need a psychiatrist.” Amy protested. “We just need to get him home, and take care of him.”
“Amy, you have no idea how bad this could be for him.” Rory fussed at his wife. The last thing they needed was her denial, and her dislike of psychiatrists.
“You must be kidding!” Amy exploded. “You think -- I don’t understand! Scum tortured my best friend and... It was all because of me. I think I understand! This -- is -- my fault; all of it, is my fault! If it weren’t for me, he would never even gone to that damnable planet.” Amy stopped, forcing herself to take a breath. It was all too much. “I know him, and I know he isn’t mental. We‘ll take care of him, and he‘ll be fine. I can fix this.” She swallowed a sob.
“Amy.” Rory tried to sound like a supportive husband.
“Shut it, Rory!”
“Amy.” Jack interrupted.
“Don’t you dare!” Amy whirled around, her voice dripping with rage. “We should have gone in sooner. If we’d gone sooner, we would have him, and ... maybe they wouldn’t have...”
Rory rose up from the couch, and step in front of his wife.
“Amy, this is not your fault. It’s Kovarian’s fault. It’s NaV0’s fault. There are a lot of guilty people responsible for this mess, and we aren’t on the list," Rory said softly. “You can’t fix this. It has nothing to do with him being mental. It has to do with being..." Rory drew a breath. "Amy, he has more emotional baggage than half the bloody universe put together, and he doesn't deal with any of it. He has lifetimes of stuff that he lies about. I know how much you love him, but sometimes, you put a lot of pressure on him. Just think about House. When he thought he had found friends, he was all excited, and what was the first thing you asked; did he want forgiveness? What did he say?”
“He said: don’t we all,” she answered softly, her outburst dissipating.
“Do you honestly think that being tortured, gang-raped by slime and having his head screwed with, isn’t going to tip him over the edge? God knows, the kind of damage that child has done. She made his body different. How the bloody hell is that even possible? This -- I don’t know how he could deal with this. Amy, I love you, but this isn’t the time for your dislike of psychiatrists or our collective guilt.
“Bar none, this --is -- the-- greatest cosmic joke ever. I wish we could have brought K’Nar with us.” River snuffled quietly, looking at her parents with tears in her eyes. “Amy, Rory is right. Even a Time Lord has his limits. This is a mess. I love that man with all my soul, and I will do whatever it takes to bring him back to me.” She went to hug her mother.
Jack nursed his bourbon as he listened, wishing that he knew more of what had gone on in the last two years. When they got him back, he was going to demand an update. The House thing sounded fascinating. He swallowed another gulp. He was getting drunk. That's not what he intended, but the memories were flooding back. He wished that he could re-bury the memory of the months of torture and of being murdered only to re-awake to do it all again. And, now... Now, he had to add these new images to add to the nightmares he already had. It was so hard to stay focused on the here and now.
Jack‘s voice sounded faraway when he finally joined in. “I spent months trying to drink myself into oblivion every night after... Anyway," he drew a deep breath, rubbed his jaw and then blew it out harshly, "this won’t be easy, but we are his friends, and we will take care of him, Amy.” He took a deep breath before he spoke again, “If that means, he spends time with a professional learning he isn’t a freak, then that’s what we’ll do -- whether he likes it or not. First ... first we get him healthy, and then we find a way to undo the mess that kid made. This time no one gets to just go off and pretend he is okay. This time, we do what's right for him, and not what feels right what for us. Whether he likes it or not.”
Amy stared at Jack. She didn't bother to wipe her tears away or resist Rory as he pulled her back to the couch. She didn't resist when Rory wrapped his arm around her trembling shoulders and pulled her close. Quiet sobs soon replaced her yelling. Jack found a blanket in the file cabinet and draped it around the exhausted young woman, leaned down and placed a fatherly kiss on her hair. "We will make this right, Red," he whispered gently before he walked back to his desk.
Quiet filled the small office as they spent the next hour lost in their own thoughts ignoring most of Ianto's attempts to get the exhausted foursome to eat at least a little pizza. McFanway's occasional calls interrupted the silence making the sound of TARDIS engines unexpectedly filled the Hub all the louder, sending everyone running. Her doors were open when they reached her. River reached the computer keyboard to print the report. Her grin lit up her face. “I am happy to say Jack was right. The Doctor managed to get home to the minute our time, Just not home. He’s in some place called Elizabeth, Kentucky.”
Amy stared at the map on the monitor screen, “Where the bloody blazes is that?”
“UH, would you believe fifty miles southeast of ... Louisville?" River answered somewhat gobsmacked.
"Isn't that’s where they run the Kentucky Darby?" Rory asked.
"Derby." Jack corrected.
"What?" Rory could have cared less.
"Americans have the Kentucky Derby. It's a big deal over there."
"Yeah, well," River answered frowning, "it's also fifteen miles south of Fort Knox, in the middle of farm country, U.S.A."
"Damn, Doc." Jack stared at the map. "How did you manage to wind up in redneck country?" Images of Brynblaidd popped in his head. "Exactly where ?" The concern in Jack's voice upped a notch
River typed the map coördinates into the computer and watched the screen. Worry had replaced her grin when she turned back "The exact location is a...." River muttered.
"Where?" Jack's worry notched higher.
"He's in hospital." River's voice cracked for a second and then she moved to input the coördinates. "We'll have him back before you can blink," she said with a note of false bravado.
"That's good, yeah," Amy asked.
“No; not necessarily” Jack interrupted, trying to keep his the disappointment out of his voice. “Scan the local police computers; see what they say." Why, just once, Jack thought, can't you be in a barn or even a house where we could swoop in, get your skinny arse, retcon a family and come home. No, you have to get yourself surrounded by people fifteen miles from the freakin' American army!
River frowned, but did as Jack asked, "Someone found John Doe brutalised and beaten. There isn't much here. Now let's get him."
"We can't. That's what I needed to explain about finding you, a place to stay. A couple of years ago, the government signed a treaty that set rules for Torchwood or any of its representatives going on foreign soil. Part of that treaty included a requirement that -- unless specifically invited, we give them a twenty-four notice that we are coming and only after we have received notice one of our agents is in trouble."
"He's not an agent," River stated firmly.
"We just made him one," Jack retorted. "River, look," he tried to sound reasonable, "I can't ... we can't -- risk the Americans finding out that they have an alien called the Doctor lying defenseless in one of their hospitals. He's sitting next to an army base. Imagine what they would do if they knew who he really is. He lucked out and landed in a place where they might -- just might buy him as a screwed up human. Because they think he is foreign national who is a crime victim, they will have cops around him. That makes things difficult for us. We can't just teleport him out and then retcon an entire American town. Somebody will notice, and Torchwood would be hauled in to explain." Frustration filled his voice.
"I will not leave him there!" River exploded.
"We're not," Jack's temper began to fray. "but, thanks to outbreaks of alien attacks linked to terrorism, the days when Torchwood could go wherever we wanted are over. I have protocols and treaties that I have to follow to protect Torchwood."
"Well, I am not part of Torchwood." River snarled as she turned back to the console. "I'm getting him!"
"No, you're not! I have to do this the right way; there is too much at stake." He couldn't stop yelling.
"Sod-off, Harkness, I am getting him back ... now!" River turned back to the helmic orienteers. When she put her hand on the hand brake, she heard her parents yell. The last thing they expected was the Webley pointed at her.
"You wouldn't dare," she snarled.
"Try me!" Jack snarled back threateningly. Part of Jack's brain told him to shut it, but the alcohol soaked part kept his mouth going. "We will do this my way, or I will put you in another cell. There is too much to lose for you to decide to go off on some impulsive escapade. He's safe -- for now. We monitor the government chatter, andc we follow the protocols. Now, we can do this my way or ..."