Title: Day One, Part Four of Four

Author: Emma

Characters: Canonical Torchwood Three members… sort of.

Rating: Some chapters definitely not safe for work.

Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?

Summary: Gwen’s first day at work is… not the usual thing
Author's Note: AU like nobody's business!

Author’s Note: The belief that unbaptized children's souls ended up in limbo was overturned recently when the Church officially announced that it was very possible they actually went to Heaven.
Author's Note: If someone notices a similarity between Jack's birth and some of the legends of Merlin the Magician... yes. It's intended but it's only a similarity.

            Gwen shook her head. “No excuses, Jack. I screwed up.”

            “Yes, she did.”

            “Shut up, Owen. Yes, Gwen, you did, but there were extenuating circumstances.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “First, the situation looked like something out of a police training exercise, so you reacted like a cop. Second, it looked like a young girl rushing at you. Under ordinary circumstances she could have been drunk, on drugs, or even the victim of a crime. Again, you reacted like a cop. And third, you would have been less than human if you hadn’t been startled.”

            “So how do I unlearn all this stuff I know? Learn how to do it right? Because I can get myself or somebody else killed if I don’t.”

            “You study. You train. You listen to people with more experience. You survive your mistakes and you figure out how not to make them again.” He grinned at her. “And when you fall flat on your arse you take all the crap Owen here is going to hand you without throttling him. Strictly speaking, throttling the staff is my job.”

            “Of course,” Ianto said, “if Jack doesn’t actually catch you with your hands around his throat, I could be persuaded to provide an alibi.”

            “You just wait until your next physical, Tea Boy. I guarantee you won’t be able to sit on your bum for a week.”

            They had waited for the police at the Weston house. Jack had exerted all his charm on Mrs. Weston but had met with a blank stare and a complete refusal to speak to anyone. The only good news was that Kenyon had been assigned to desk duty for a while. Andy told them that he had made so many stupid comments and threats in front of senior officers that he had been disciplined.

            Kenyon’s absence seemed to make the constables more relaxed. Some even teased Gwen about the state of the SUV, but she got her own back when an identical one turned the corner and came to a stop in front of the house. Two dour men got out and handed the keys to Ianto, taking the keys of the damaged one from Jack with resigned looks.

            The question of who rode with whom – Gwen had been ready to arm wrestle Owen for a chance at the Sprite – was solved when Jack plopped himself down on the passenger seat. He gave them a smug grin and waved them to the new SUV.  Gwen had to endure Owen’s sarcastic commentary on her performance all the way back to the Hub, which had led to Jack finding them in the parking lot with her hands around Owen’s throat and the subsequent conversation.

            Jack barely waited for the cog door to roll before bounding into the Hub.

            “Toshiko. My beautiful, clever Toshiko. Tell me you have something.”

            “I have something.” Her eyes went wide at the sight of Ianto’s bandaged hands. “What happened to you?”

            “Our hero tried to hang on to a revenant with his bare hands,” Owen answered. “He’s on light duty for a few days. He can still make the coffee, but someone else will carry the tray. Bandages will be changed twice a day, and no, he can’t do it by himself. Ok? Ok.” He plopped down at his work station. “God, I am tired and sore. And my jacket is a tax deduction.”

            Jack waved off the doctor’s complaints. “Tosh, what did you find for us?”

            “One Edward Gwynne. Married, two kids at Uni. Wife is an accountant. Edward teaches maths at St. Anne’s Preparatory for Girls and is by all accounts excellent at it. He has taught at several other Catholic schools. He seems to move to a new job every four or five years. In fact, he’s leaving Cardiff at the end of the school term for a post somewhere in Yorkshire. I made some phone calls. Let’s just say the silence was very enlightening.”

            “Address?” Tosh handed him a piece of paper. “Gwen, Owen, with me. Ianto…”

            “Jack. There’s something else.” Toshiko interrupted. “I’ve been monitoring the police frequencies. A few minutes ago there was a rather nasty exchange between the Cardiff Central superintendent and one of the constable sergeants.”

            “Kenyon?”

            “Yes. The superintendent was reaming him for leaving his desk without permission and Kenyon told him that he knew who she was going after and he was going to get there before fucking Torchwood.”

            “In abuse cases,” Owen said quietly, “authorities sometimes tend to give the abuser the benefit of the doubt, especially if he’s a member of good standing of a religious group.”

            “Son of a… Let’s go, kids. Ianto, you stay here. Tosh, keep an eye on him. Burn victims can go into shock suddenly.”

            “Will do. And don’t make a face at me, Mr. Jones.” She pointed to the station next to hers. “There’s actually something interesting for you to do. Remember those odd energy readings we got last week? They’re back. And they’re all yours.”

            The Gwynnes lived in one of the professional enclaves in Roath, near the park. Kenyon’s police car was parked in front. Male voices and a woman’s screams could be heard, loud enough for a few curious neighbours to have gathered on the pavement. Gwen noticed that the arrival of the SUV with its Torchwood logo caused people to remember they had business elsewhere. The road was empty in what seemed like seconds.

            “You know, this breaking and entering gig is getting really old,” Owen muttered.

            “It’s only breaking and entering if it’s locked,” Jack said as he touched the handle and the door swung open. “Gwen, stay with Owen and pay attention.”

            One of the male voices had become a long wordless wail that raised Gwen’s hackles. She followed Owen as he chased Jack upstairs. One of the bedrooms had been converted into an office. Eric Kenyon lay crumpled against the far wall, mewling and retching, more like an animal than a human being. Carys Weston stood over the rapidly decomposing remains of… something that might at some point have been a man. She looked up at their arrival and smiled gently.

            “You’re too late. I’m almost done.” She released the shirt she was holding. “He offered to pay for an abortion. He had done it before, he said. He screamed at the end. He sounded like a baby. Do you think my baby sounds like that in Purgatory?” She pointed at Kenyon. “He’s the last. Edward sent him to my parents. He told them I was a slut who deserved punishment. My baby died because of him.”

            “Carys.” Jack walked into the room, hands out so she could see he didn’t have a weapon. “Unbaptized babies don’t go to Purgatory. The Church says they remain perfectly happy and content in a special place in limbo. You know that.”

            She shook her head. “No. Father William says the Church’s teachings have become twisted because it’s trying to become modern. He says they go to Purgatory and they have to be redeemed. That’s why I killed myself. I thought, if suicides go to Purgatory, we can be together and it won’t matter. You see?”

            “Father William was wrong. You baby is perfectly happy and content. I swear it to you.” Jack kept moving closer, putting himself between Kenyon and Carys. “But you’ve killed three people. Who’s going to take care of your baby now?”

            “I couldn’t find him! I just wandered in the dark until I was outside again and I knew what I had to do. See, if I make them pay for their sins, then my baby and I will be redeemed. The two guys… I just needed the strength. I need to find my baby!”

            She exploded into motion, shoving at him as she tried to get at Kenyon. Jack staggered under the impact, but held on, enfolding her in his arms. Remembering Ianto’s burns, Gwen tried to rush in, but Owen slammed her against the door.

            “You said you wanted to learn. Learn, then.”

            Gwen watched as Jack pulled Carys against him until her head was resting on his chest and pressed his lips to the top of her head. Their bodies began to glow. Slowly, as the glow became stronger, the girl became more and more insubstantial, until Jack was holding what seemed to be a column of light. Then, suddenly, it all dissipated and Jack stood alone. He opened his eyes and looked at them. For a moment his eyes burned pure gold, and then the fire died and his beautiful blue eyes were back to normal.

            “Owen?”

            “Wait in the SUV. Gwen and I can handle the rest.”

            Gwen watched Jack go downstairs then turned to Owen. “What the hell just happened? Who is he? What is he?”

            “Among other things, Jack is a Gate. In certain circumstances he can help souls cross the Wall.”

            “But only Blessed ones can do that! Or…”

            Owen nodded. “Jack’s mother was raped by a demon. His aunt, the Abbess Muirgheal of Dumfries, baptized him as he was being born, but she couldn’t completely counteract his father’s nature. Jack has spent his life atoning for something that isn’t his fault. Each time he does that it hurts like bloody blazes but he still does it.” He sighed. “Come on. You call Andy. I’ll deal with Kenyon. Bastard’s probably going to spend the rest of his life in Providence Park. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”