Status: On hold
Backtrack
Chapter Six
The Doctor turned his head slightly to fix the glare he had previously been giving me towards Gwen, in his way of saying that he didn't actually appreciate her opinion. It also more than likely signified that he knew she was right, but didn't want to admit that either. This belief of mine was corroborated when he sighed and, resignation tainting his voice, muttered, "Yeah, what's done is done I guess, huh?"
"Look, Doctor," I spoke, the guilt-induced tears I had been holding back throughout the narration of that tragic tale now welling up in the edges of my eyes. "I had to do something then, and I took the only path that seemed available to me. I knew that terrible mistake for what it was as soon as I made it, and if I could have taken it back right then and there, I would have in a heartbeat. But neither of us can bring those children back anymore than we can anybody else. Instead, let's learn from my stupidity and make sure that nothing like that happens again." The somber looks that both the Doctor and Gwen had adapted as I began quickly mutated as determination instead coloured their demeanors.
"Alright then!" The Doctor replied, his trademark self-assured smile returning to its rightful position on his face. "I'm assuming the people actually making the decisions around here weren't in the room with..." I heard him catch himself mid-sentence, having almost said Ianto and you instead. He quickly resumed, however, not relishing a return to the awkward mood we had just fought through. "... the 456. They'd be bloody stupid diplomats if they all walked straight into the slaughterhouse like that. Although, I suppose I shouldn't put it past you lot, either."
Gwen once again visibly tensed up at his not-so-tactful references to humanity's shortcomings, but she quickly regained her composure and responded, "No, they had only one representative present, and the rest were viewing the scene from a safe distance through live video. Any decisions made were theirs. We had a spy amongst them... but..." She trailed off with obvious guilt.
"Is that how you knew what was happening?" The Doctor asked in the tone of obvious intrigue he acquired whenever his mind was racing to put together piece after piece and thereby formulate an action plan. "How did you guys communicate? Can we still make contact?"
This time it was my turn to interject, "No, She made a sacrifice for us, and has since been arrested for government espionage. We could more than likely find out where she's being held though." I said this last bit mostly in case the Doctor should harbour a harsh view of these also necessary actions that we took.
However, I was pleasantly surprised when he inquired, "And do you think she'd still help us?"
"She'll need some persuasion," I pessimistically replied. But, I didn't want to turn down his plans completely, so I added, "I do believe she would desire to, though. We simply have to convince her that we'll look after her is all."
"Right," he said, his grin once again stretching from ear to ear. It was inconceivable to me how even in the bleakest of situation like this he could always muster up enough hope to still look almost joyful whilst I struggled not to collapse into a mire of despair. Then again, I often wondered if in those moments he was viewing the future, the victory he could apparently almost taste invigorating him anew. I wished at that moment that I could have trusted that we would in fact reach that happy ending, even though I knew it could only have been a consolation prize in light of everything else. "Gwen, get me that information pronto," he continued, "and Jack, you and I need to figure out a way to convince these representatives that the future of humanity depends on them not giving up the children."
I shook my head, a frown fusing into my features both at knowing that I should stay and at the task that I was about to accept as my duty. "I have another obligation. I'm sorry, but I've already put it off for too long. I'll meet up with you two again soon enough. In the mean time, you can use the comm to inform me of your progress and any help that may be needed."
Gwen quickly turned my way, a small amount of anger seemingly bubbling up within her as she interrupted with, "What's so vital that you're leaving us now of all times Jack? Sure you know how dangerous our present situation is, so stay here and protect us! Isn't that your job?"
I struggled to maintain my composure and not let sorrow overtake me once again as I nearly mumbled, "I have to inform Ianto's family of the bad news, that's all. You're usually be the first to agree with me on matters like this."
Gwen's demeanor softened slightly with the compassion she did in fact hold for me, however much she attempted to conceal it as time like this. Still, she refused to relent, stating, "You're not in the right state of mind to do that. You're a wreck, and you can't even help yourself when it comes to him, let alone bring comfort to anyone else. Let me do it."
I shook my head, not willing to give this one up. "No, Gwen, what happened was entirely my fault, and so this is something I really must deal with along. If either of you ever want me to even begin to forgive myself for this, let me receive their forgiveness first." I knew even as I said it that that would mostly likely not be the case, but it would have served to at least somewhat lessen my guilt, for whatever good it would have done me. "Besides, not only does the Doctor need you here, but you said yourself that it's dangerous out there, and you're pregnant! Let him protect you; I've already proven I can't do a good enough job myself."
She sighed, finally figuring out that I wasn't going to be dissuaded from my planned course of action whether she liked it or not. For what seemed like the thousandth time that day, another awkward silence engulfed the three of us. The Doctor, however, penetrated it this time, all too calmly stating, "Take care of them, and yourself, of course, Jack. We'll be fine here."
Gwen didn't look so assured, and I could have felt almost as awful for leaving her there as I did regarding what I was leaving to do. Not for the first time either, I wondered if I would ever reach a decision that resulted in something other than heartbreak in one of its various forms, be that guilt or just plain sorrow. And of that, I definitely didn't possess the ability to even convince myself.
"Look, Doctor," I spoke, the guilt-induced tears I had been holding back throughout the narration of that tragic tale now welling up in the edges of my eyes. "I had to do something then, and I took the only path that seemed available to me. I knew that terrible mistake for what it was as soon as I made it, and if I could have taken it back right then and there, I would have in a heartbeat. But neither of us can bring those children back anymore than we can anybody else. Instead, let's learn from my stupidity and make sure that nothing like that happens again." The somber looks that both the Doctor and Gwen had adapted as I began quickly mutated as determination instead coloured their demeanors.
"Alright then!" The Doctor replied, his trademark self-assured smile returning to its rightful position on his face. "I'm assuming the people actually making the decisions around here weren't in the room with..." I heard him catch himself mid-sentence, having almost said Ianto and you instead. He quickly resumed, however, not relishing a return to the awkward mood we had just fought through. "... the 456. They'd be bloody stupid diplomats if they all walked straight into the slaughterhouse like that. Although, I suppose I shouldn't put it past you lot, either."
Gwen once again visibly tensed up at his not-so-tactful references to humanity's shortcomings, but she quickly regained her composure and responded, "No, they had only one representative present, and the rest were viewing the scene from a safe distance through live video. Any decisions made were theirs. We had a spy amongst them... but..." She trailed off with obvious guilt.
"Is that how you knew what was happening?" The Doctor asked in the tone of obvious intrigue he acquired whenever his mind was racing to put together piece after piece and thereby formulate an action plan. "How did you guys communicate? Can we still make contact?"
This time it was my turn to interject, "No, She made a sacrifice for us, and has since been arrested for government espionage. We could more than likely find out where she's being held though." I said this last bit mostly in case the Doctor should harbour a harsh view of these also necessary actions that we took.
However, I was pleasantly surprised when he inquired, "And do you think she'd still help us?"
"She'll need some persuasion," I pessimistically replied. But, I didn't want to turn down his plans completely, so I added, "I do believe she would desire to, though. We simply have to convince her that we'll look after her is all."
"Right," he said, his grin once again stretching from ear to ear. It was inconceivable to me how even in the bleakest of situation like this he could always muster up enough hope to still look almost joyful whilst I struggled not to collapse into a mire of despair. Then again, I often wondered if in those moments he was viewing the future, the victory he could apparently almost taste invigorating him anew. I wished at that moment that I could have trusted that we would in fact reach that happy ending, even though I knew it could only have been a consolation prize in light of everything else. "Gwen, get me that information pronto," he continued, "and Jack, you and I need to figure out a way to convince these representatives that the future of humanity depends on them not giving up the children."
I shook my head, a frown fusing into my features both at knowing that I should stay and at the task that I was about to accept as my duty. "I have another obligation. I'm sorry, but I've already put it off for too long. I'll meet up with you two again soon enough. In the mean time, you can use the comm to inform me of your progress and any help that may be needed."
Gwen quickly turned my way, a small amount of anger seemingly bubbling up within her as she interrupted with, "What's so vital that you're leaving us now of all times Jack? Sure you know how dangerous our present situation is, so stay here and protect us! Isn't that your job?"
I struggled to maintain my composure and not let sorrow overtake me once again as I nearly mumbled, "I have to inform Ianto's family of the bad news, that's all. You're usually be the first to agree with me on matters like this."
Gwen's demeanor softened slightly with the compassion she did in fact hold for me, however much she attempted to conceal it as time like this. Still, she refused to relent, stating, "You're not in the right state of mind to do that. You're a wreck, and you can't even help yourself when it comes to him, let alone bring comfort to anyone else. Let me do it."
I shook my head, not willing to give this one up. "No, Gwen, what happened was entirely my fault, and so this is something I really must deal with along. If either of you ever want me to even begin to forgive myself for this, let me receive their forgiveness first." I knew even as I said it that that would mostly likely not be the case, but it would have served to at least somewhat lessen my guilt, for whatever good it would have done me. "Besides, not only does the Doctor need you here, but you said yourself that it's dangerous out there, and you're pregnant! Let him protect you; I've already proven I can't do a good enough job myself."
She sighed, finally figuring out that I wasn't going to be dissuaded from my planned course of action whether she liked it or not. For what seemed like the thousandth time that day, another awkward silence engulfed the three of us. The Doctor, however, penetrated it this time, all too calmly stating, "Take care of them, and yourself, of course, Jack. We'll be fine here."
Gwen didn't look so assured, and I could have felt almost as awful for leaving her there as I did regarding what I was leaving to do. Not for the first time either, I wondered if I would ever reach a decision that resulted in something other than heartbreak in one of its various forms, be that guilt or just plain sorrow. And of that, I definitely didn't possess the ability to even convince myself.