torchwoodinstitute | Well Hello There

Oooookay. So. He'd never had a runner before. Jack watched Henry go and then flipped up his manipulator. Right time. Right place. Right dimension? Well, the read out was iffy. He'd lost track of Henry some time ago, visiting him as a kid and a teenager like everyone else. After that...well things got a little fuzzy.

It was that fuzziness that Jack was most interested in. He wasn't sure why. Not yet. But he would be. A purple and gold flare in the hall eventually swallowed him up and he left Henry alone for a few days.

Eventually, everyone had to leave their apartments. Jack would be waiting by the door to the building when Henry did.

Jack was in for a long wait. Henry didn't leave his apartment unless he absolutely had to, and left the building even less often. His landlord was being nice and not charging him rent for a few months. But even though he knew he had to start getting back to some form of work, he just couldn't manage it.

As his finances were dwindling, his grocery trips were few and far between, and mostly consisted of ramen. But he'd done that before, and he really didn't need to eat all that often. It was fine.

So it was nearly a week later that he finally left the building. He instantly wished he used the fire escape when he saw that man again. He had convinced himself he was being paranoid, but here he was again.

He tried to hold his ground this time. He had a small fold-out knife in his pocket- it wasn't much but he never left the apartment without it. "What do you want?" he asked, suspicion in his eyes. He couldn't very well ask 'why do your eyes look dead?', now could he?

"Firstly I kind of want you to not run away again right away?" That would be nice. Jack didn't mind giving chase but he was pretty sure that Henry would not do well with that. He'd spent the time not at Henry's door research various temporal databases on that fuzzy spot in his history and had come up with a few unfavorable possibilities on what had happened. Not all tales painted Henry in a truly favorable light, mentally, but Jack a few things in the Archive that served him pretty well in figuring out the rest.

He just hoped that this wouldn't become another Alessa situation. That was still painful to think about sometimes. Jack couldn't save them all. No matter how he tried.

"I'm not going to hurt you or take anything from you. I just want to talk. And we can do that wherever you're comfortable."

He considered it, eventually saying, "...okay. Over here." There was a bench in the courtyard of South Ashfield Heights- it sat near the wall that edged along the street and faced the inside of the courtyard. That was public enough, especially if they were going to talk about what he thought they were going to talk about. Henry didn't want to, but if this guy was willing to wait for him to come outside, then he'd follow him wherever he went.

So he walked towards the bench, keeping Jack within his line of sight. "I...don't know how to say this, but...your eyes. They're wrong." In fact, he thought that was the worst way to say it. "I mean, I've seen someone with eyes like yours before....he was dead."

He realized, far too late, that this man might be from the press. 'Oh, hell, please don't be a reporter...' he thought, closing his eyes briefly. It would still be better than anyone from that cult, at least.

“I’ve never been a reporter,” Jack said immediately, sitting down like some well worn old man in his wartime finery. Jack looked like something out of an old sepia photo from World War II. Everything from the cut of his shirt to the suspenders beneath the greatcoat with its epilates screamed that he was a man out of place and time. “And you can see that I’m very much alive.”

Too alive. And not alive at all. Jack didn’t know what he was. The one person he thought could help him didn’t know who he was…just that he caused the Time Lord to itch and his teeth to ache.

All Jack knew was that he was wrong.

He offered Henry his wrist to feel for his pulse.

There was something soothing about the way Jack smelled, something familiar, something Henry would enjoy that could call up a scent memory of better days. He hadn’t always been the way he was, after all, and Uncle Jack was not a new face to him if he cared to think back.

“I’m here because I think you can help me.”

Henry frowned when Jack claimed to be 'very much alive.' But when the wrist was offered, Henry took it. Jack hadn't been lying. Henry let out a sigh of relief and relaxed, slightly. At least he wasn't dealing with another 'ten hearts' killer.

Henry never cared to think back, as large portions of his own history seemed lost to him in the wash of his years at South Ashfield Heights. It was all far too fuzzy and the only good parts were in Silent Hill, anyway. However, now that he was more relaxed, he did realize that Jack smelled slightly of developer, and wondered if he worked in a dark room. That didn't seem like something that cult would be into. (although who really knew, with them?)

His thoughts were scattered when Jack spoke again. "Help you?" he asked, confused. "With what?"

Edited 2015-08-14 15:08 (UTC)

“Just a little thing like saving the universe,” Jack replied smoothly. None of this was ever easy to sell so Jack just went about it like he wasn’t saying things normal people might view as stark raving mad. In all honesty, none of it was insanity. All of it existed. It was just like telling the Native Americans during the great Western Expansion of America about iPods. Sometimes the jargon just didn’t make sense because the terms used to describe it didn’t make sense.

It didn’t matter. Jack knew that the human mind was capable of filling in the caps…not always correctly, but it was enough to keep the mind from shutting down at mere concepts.

“I’m from the Torchwood Institute. We track down, research and archive scientifically and culturally catastrophic artifacts from all eras and locations so that we can preserve the timeline.” Yep. Letting that steep. “You have unique gifts that would be an asset to us. We also pay well and have a great benefit package.”

...huh. It took a bit to try and parse all of that, as Henry hadn't been expecting a proposal like this. The words he focused on were 'artifacts' and 'timeline.' He leaned forward for a moment, his forearms leaning on his thighs. He stared up at the windows of his apartment. He wasn't doing anything but dying here. He probably wouldn't last a year, the way he was going.

He turned back to Jack. "Okay. I have two conditions." The tired, quiet way he talked meant that it seemed like he might've forgotten them already, when he was really just pausing. "The first is that we never come back here. And..uh, secondly. I want you to take some things in my apartment and archive them." At least that would get them away from people who would want to use them.

Henry watched Jack for his reaction. He still wasn't entirely convinced Jack wasn't with the Order.

So that went from the most difficult to the easiest recruitment known to man, Jack noted. His gazed lifted towards the window he saw Henry looking at before he draped an arm over the back of the bench.

"Everything in that apartment is going to be archived," Jack said. "We've been trying to get into it for awhile now. Mitchell and JC were already ready to go.

Just in case. You could honestly never be too careful sometimes.

He offered his other hand to Henry to shake. "But you have a deal."

Henry's face relaxed, and he nodded. Noticing Jack's hand, he reached out to shake. "Good. Thanks. -oh." He thought about what he originally wanted them to take care of. "Maybe I should be in there while they do it. There's a couple of things...uh, it'd be better if I'm the only one to handle them." He wasn't sure what sort of horrible curse that doll had on it, but he definitely didn't want to stick anyone else with it.

Wow, that terrible thing was the all he had left of Eileen, wasn't it? Damn.

"I'm not sure how much help I'll be with your work," he admitted, leaning back in the bench to look back up at that apartment. "But I'll try. Do you really save the universe?"

"I don't think you should go back inside," Jack said bluntly. "Once your things are removed... They're going to try to figure out if your apartment can still be used to get to Silent Hill and how to seal it up if they can." Blunt. Jack wasn't going to sugar coat any of this.

But then again, they were doing important work. They couldn't rely on the Doctor saving the day so Jack had to do it.

He moved to stand up and flicked open his vortex manipulator before he grinned down at Henry. "But yeah. We really do save the universe. We try to give everyone weekends off when possible though."

He was going to protest, but then he actually, really thought about it. Did he need to go back in? Maybe he could just tell them what to watch for.

He leaned back even further, looking up at the sky. He was never going back inside again. He'd never have to walk past Eileen's door again, hearing screams he knows aren't there. He was finally leaving. He'd go to a place where he'd have another chance to save lives, and he'd make good on it this time. It wouldn't make up for the people he failed to save, but it'd make him feel slightly better.

And if this turned out to be some sort of crazy plot, and he was handing everything over to bad people- well, he'd take that chance. He was tired. He closed his eyes and let out a long, relieved sigh. "Thank you," he said.

But there were still things to go over, so after a moment, he sat up and looked at Jack again. "Uh...there's a box in my living room- it has a lot of things in it. It also has an old doll. Don't touch it, okay? Don't let anyone touch it. And there are a few things in that back room..." His face scrunched up as he thought about it. "Some ritual stuff. Be careful with that, too." Yeah, the dead body would've probably tipped them off there. (oh god, had he left Walter's dead body back there? What was wrong with him?)

Rubbing at his face, he added, "I think the apartment's still connected- but it's...connected to Walter's other world, not. Uh, not the real Silent Hill." Did Jack know about any of that? He had some sort of weird device strapped to his wrist- it was comforting, somehow.

"We'll be careful," Jack said, which was more or less the truth. Maybe less. It was really hard, sometimes, to do both but Jack somehow managed it like a pro. He dialed in the vortex for home and set it blazing up behind him.

"This doesn't go to Silent Hill. It goes to Cardiff." Hopefully. "It's a dimension without a direct connection to Silent Hill. You're going to be safe from it there, Henry, but I can't promise that you'll be safe from everything. What we do is dangerous work."

Henry's eyes widened in worry when Jack set up the vortex, so it was good that it was explained immediately. He took a deep breath, figuring he had to go through it. If he'd be safe from that place there, then it was worth jumping through another hole.

Jack just gets stared at for a moment, after telling Henry it would be dangerous. "Yeah, I figured. I guess..." He gave the place one last look. "As long as I don't die here, it's fine." He wasn't sure if that was really how it worked, but he felt like he was marked already, like the apartment was holding onto him. He was already the Receiver of Wisdom, so it could still be finished, right? He had to keep that from happening, now that he had a chance.

So he stood and stepped in front of the vortex. "Do we just walk through it?" he asked.

"You could try jumping, but you might crash into a wall. And it's not exactly pleasant. Keep your eyes closed, it helps with the dizzyiness and... Henry? There's no shame in throwing up."

It wasn't the best of speeches, but these things happened on the fly and Henry was taking this remarkably well now.

He held out his hand with a sly grin.

"Want to go together?"

Henry couldn't think of a time when he hadn't felt nauseous, so the warning was taken with a serious nod. He'd been ready to walk through on his own, but Jack held his hand out.

Henry was reminded of trying to guide Eileen back to his room through one of the holes in the hospital. Would this place let him go? Would he be stuck just like she was?

Only one way to find out. "Yeah. Thanks." He took Jack's hand and held it tightly as he stepped through. He closed his eyes as instructed, wondering if it would help.

"Woah there!" Mitchell was actually very use to people just showing up sometimes, especially holding the Captain's hand. Exceptionally Irish in tone and look, the grinned somewhat amusedly at Henry and nodded as he brushed him a bit off. "Not about to throw up on me, are you now?" he asked.

He just had to make sure.

Once Henry got a good look at him, he was bound to see another dead man...which might not be so good for his poor mental state. Even if Mitchell really was friendly enough!

Henry wasn't waking up on the floor, so it was an improvement on his interdimensional traveling experiences. He thought he might make it to a different space, but he hadn't been expecting to run into someone. He swayed in place, feeling more dizzy when he opened his eyes. But throwing up? No. He blinked several times and clutched his head with his free hand for a moment, then focused on the man in front of him. "No, I'm not," he replied. "Uh, hi. I'm Henry."

His eyes finally focused all the way, and he realized this man also had dead eyes. But wherever he was, it sure didn't look like the other world. It was strange, but it had its own style to it. This was encouraging. He would hold out his hand, except he was still holding on to Jack's. He should probably let go, huh? "Thanks," he said, both to Jack and to Mitchell.

"Well met, mate. John Mitchell. Just Mitchell's fine indeed." He glanced down at the hand holding and then snorted at Jack. "Oh honestly, every new recruit?" he asked, and gave the pair a bit of a wave. "Welcome to Torchwood, Henry! Be seeing you, I'm sure! Got a bit of a mess to clean up. Should be back by dinner if this is working correctly." He opened up his own portal after a salute to Jack and slipped through the golden light of the vortex, which disappeared behind him.

Jack, thankfully, decided it was best, yet again, to explain.

"Vampire. More of a tea drinker than a blood drinker. We have a synthetic drink that keeps him from being an asshole." Yep. He'd met John Mitchell off the wagon. He really didn't mind the amazing sex that came with the blood lust but it was weird to sleep with your employees.

Once their joined hands were being pointedly stared at, Henry did finally let go, looking vaguely embarrassed. Mitchell moved a bit too quickly for him, and so he didn't say anything before the man was gone. But he did nod when he was welcomed, at least.

When Jack explained, Henry stared at the spot where the portal had been and let out a small 'huh.' He looked back over to Jack. "I didn't know vampires actually existed," he said, somewhat obviously. "It's kind of a relief...my world isn't the only one with, uh, strange things in it."

"As far as strange things go, your world is pretty tame," Jack said, gesturing with his now freed hand for Henry to follow him to his office. Jack had such a strange collection of modern and retro styles and as he hung up his coat on the old fashioned coat rack and fell into a creaking wooden chair, Henry would be able to see the photos behind him of things that couldn't possibly exist from worlds that couldn't possibly exist either.

And still, there was no way that they were artist renderings.

"Paperwork first or do you want to see where you're going to be living?" Sorry, Henry. You'll have to stay on site for awhile, no nice house by the water for you yet.

Henry's eyes immediately went to the photos. He would have to get a new camera, and see if they'd mind if he took pictures after they finished saving whoever they were trying to save. Each strange thing he took in and accepted as a possibility, one by one. There was some scary stuff in there, but nothing that left him feeling sick and slimy, like back home, at least.

It took him a moment to realize Jack had been asking him a question. "Uh...paperwork first," he replied, finding a chair on the other side of the desk to sit in. They could get it out of the way. He was curious about where he'd be living, but it'd wait. As long as it wasn't a small, old apartment building, he'd be fine with it.

It would be underground with artificial window simulations, but definitely not small.

Jack turned to an old filing cabinet and, pulling open a drawer, thumbed through some of the manila folders until he came across a thick file filled with wrinkle edged papers. Evidently, despite having a portal creator, Jack liked doing things the old fashioned way.

He picked up a number 2 pencil and set the file down. Pinned to the inside left was Harry's picture and a date.

The date was from a week ago, when Jack first made contact.

"Here's the release form that if you die while employed by Torchwood, your remains and your possessions will remain here in case of chronoton particle dispersion. And this one here is your salary statement. Sign and initial at the Xes."

Henry watched as Jack grabbed everything. It was rather nice to be dealing with paper files and not typing it all into the computer, but it'd be that way if signatures were involved.

He looked over the release form with a nod. That was also comforting. He didn't want his remains going back, that was for sure. "What's 'chronoton particle dispersion'?" he asked, as he signed the paper. He should probably know something like that, right?

The salary statement was met with confusion. "...is this right?" he asked, sure there was a typo and someone made it way too high. If so, they should probably work that out right away.

"Traveling through time and space can leave chronotons attached to your body. It's not harmful while you're alive because you're always moving even when sedentary. But when you die... Those particles has a chance to leave and we've had too many rips in dimensions. I'm sure you've experienced something annoyingly similar." He didn't feel the need to sugarcoat any of that. Nor did he feel the need to downplay the reason for the high salary. Cost of living, to Jack, was important. He wanted to give his employees enough money that they could do what they liked...but not enough to get them to quit.

Making them millionaires tended to do that unless he was able to spread it out.

Jack slid across a new leather wrist strap across the table once he told Henry the truth about the small issue with a likely premature death and the other man signed the line.

"Welcome to Torchwood."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject