Dr. Who/Torchwood/Yu-Gi-Oh One-shot, Rough draft

[atouchofsmithandjones]

Yes, I've now crossed Yu-Gi-Oh with the Doctor Who universe. Not the first though!

This little story came about after not_hathor (MotherCHOWGoddess on ff.net) made a comment that Jack in Torchwood might make a good "Uncle Jamie" in her series of Ryou and Seto stories that started with Weight of a Feather: Breaking Strain. This is me figuring out how to make that work and set up the other story in my head. I'm obviously rearranging timelines a bit to make everything line up with Jack's canon timeline. This is just a rough draft-- and mostly Torchwood-- but the basics are there. (And thanks again for letting me play with this not_hathor, this was fun!)

Working Title: The One Who Lives
Fandoms: Doctor Who, Torchwood, Yu-Gi-Oh
Characters: Reverend Ernest Trelaw, Saul, Captain Jack Harkness
Rating: PG (Gen)
Warnings: Spoilers for the Torchwood episodes "Adam" and the season two finale "Exit Wounds"
Disclaimers: Doctor Who and Torchwood are the property of the BBC. Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Kazuki Takahashi. Reverend Trelaw and Saul are the property of BBC Books and Paul Cornell. Some details of Ryou's past is the creation of not_hathor. No profit is being made from this fanfic.


The Reverend Ernest Trelaw, vicar of St. Christopher’s, was almost done writing up his sermon for the Sunday service, when Saul caught his attention.

“It appears we have a visitor,” the presence that inhabited St. Christopher’s said.

Trelaw glanced up. There was no reason for him to look up, Saul inhabited the entire church, but it always seemed the polite thing to do. “A visitor?”

“Yes.” Trelaw could sense Saul’s curiosity in that simple word. “I think you might want to invite him in. He seems a bit lost.”

Pushing away from his desk, Trelaw picked up his jacket and headed for the main entrance to the church. As he walked, he asked, “Lost in what way, Saul?”

“I’m not sure. There is a weight of sadness about him; and he doesn’t seem to fit in the same way the Doctor doesn‘t seem to fit.” Saul paused and Trelaw could feel Saul’s curiosity grow. “And I believe he is aware of me.”

That sounds interesting, Trelaw thought. He opened the door and stepped outside.

It was easy to spot the man in question. He had stopped halfway up the path leading to St. Christopher’s and was staring up at the church with a puzzled frown on his face. He stood with his hands stuck in the pockets of a dark blue greatcoat. The coat belonged to another time, but it seemed to fit the young man perfectly. He appeared to be searching for something but didn’t seem to know what that something was. The man quickly shifted his gaze down to Trelaw and smiled.

Saul was right. There was a sense of loss surrounding the man that the bright smile failed to disguise. Trelaw headed down the path to greet him.

The man nodded towards St. Christopher’s. “Just admiring your church,” he said. From the accent, Trelaw guessed the man was one of the many American tourists who passed through Cheldon Bonniface on tours up the east coast from London to Newcastle.

Trelaw smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Reverend Trelaw, vicar of St. Christopher’s.”

As he shook Trelaw’s hand, the man’s gaze wandered back up to the church. “Captain Jack Harkness,” he said distractedly. “Nice to meet you”

The name was familiar to Trelaw, and he felt an echoing sense of recognition from Saul as he said, “Captain Jack Harkness? There is an American Eagle pilot buried here with the same name. Was he a relative of yours?”

The shocked look on the Captain’s face told Trelaw that was not the reason for his visit. The Captain looked towards the cemetery and shook his head. “No,” he whispered, “we’re not related.”

“But he does knows who you are talking about,” Saul said with firm conviction. The Captain’s gaze snapped back up to the church.

“My apologies. I probably should have introduced Saul from the start.” The Captain looked at him, the question clear on his face. “Saul is the presence that lives on the hill.”

“Hello,” Saul said.

“Ah. So, you’re the one I was sensing. Nice to meet you Saul.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Captain.”

“Jack is fine.”

“Jack it is then.”

It appeared that Saul was not the first disembodied voice Jack had talked to. He seemed quite comfortable talking to someone who was not actually there. Trelaw wondered about that. He also wondered what events had worn him down. Over the decades he had been vicar of St. Christopher’s, Trelaw had seen and helped many people deal with the various forms grief took. Jack looked like a man who needed to share his burden of grief before it shattered him. Trelaw hoped he could help ease that burden.

He gestured towards the church. “Would you like to see the inside?” Trelaw sensed Jack closing down emotionally, and added quickly, “I’ve been trying to write up some notes for Sunday’s service and could use a break.”

Jack seemed to struggle with himself a moment, then he nodded. “I’d like that.”

As they walked up to St. Christopher’s, Saul suddenly asked, “Jack, how old are you?”

Jack didn’t hesitate to answer. “A little over two thousand now.”

Trelaw almost stopped in his tracks and said years? you’re joking, but Saul’s thoughtful silence kept him from speaking.

“You don’t seem surprised by that,” Jack said to Saul.

“Well, a little.” Saul waited until they had stepped into the church before asking, “Do you know the Doctor by any chance?”

Jack stopped and gave Saul a weary laugh. “Yes. I know the Doctor.” He glanced at Trelaw. “He’s been here before?”

Trelaw nodded. “A few times, yes. It always proves to be an interesting visit.” Jack gave him an understanding smile.

Jack followed Trelaw down the center aisle and waited patiently as Trelaw gave reverence to the Holy presence and then joined him in the first row of pews. Jack stretched his legs out and looked up at the vaulted ceiling, projecting the illusion of lazy relaxation, though Trelaw could see the tension lurking underneath the illusion. “So,” Jack said, “what exactly are you Saul?”

“I don’t know.”

Jack sighed. “I know how that goes,” He closed his eyes.

“We think,” Trelaw said, “Saul came into being as a result of man’s need to communicate with the divine. This spot has been a place of worship for as long as men have lived here.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.” Jack opened his eyes. “You were here long before the church was build, weren’t you, Saul.”

“Yes. I‘m the reason they build it here.” They sat quietly for a few moments, then Saul said, “You’ve done a lot of traveling, haven’t you Jack?”

Jack laughed, a fragile broken sound, and answered bitterly, “To the end of the universe and back. And I‘ll probably live long enough to see it again even without a TARDIS to take me to it.” Jack took a deep breath, and closed his eyes again.

Trelaw leaned against the hard back of the pew, and asked casually, “What brought you to St. Christopher’s, Jack?”

Trelaw sensed Jack struggling with himself again, then Jack straightened and pulled an envelope out of his pocket. Leaning forward, forearms resting on his thighs as he stared at the envelope and rubbed his thumbs across the white surface, Jack said, “I was taking the train up to Combe Florie to deliver this, when I realized I couldn’t. I stayed on the main line until it reached Birmingham, then grabbed the first train heading in the opposite directions. And then I ended up here.”

“Why couldn‘t you go to Combe Florie?”

“There’s the possibility someone would be there who’d recognized me. I couldn‘t take the chance they might see me.” Jack’s voice dropped down to a whisper as he spoke, and the hands holding the envelope seemed to tremble slightly.

“Who is the letter for?”

“My granddaughter and great granddaughter.”

Trelaw raised an eyebrow at that. “Couldn’t you just mail it to them?” Saul asked.

Jack shook his head. “No. Combe Florie is where they are buried.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Jack,” Trelaw said, resting a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Jack said. “It was a long time ago.”

It was obviously not all right-- Trelaw could feel Jack shaking from the effort to keep his emotions under control-- and Trelaw felt the need to ask, “Who is it that might recognize you?”

“My great-grandson Ryou.” Jack drew in a shaky breath. “He’d be around seventeen, now. His mother and sister died eight years ago today. He might be there visiting right now.”

“Why wouldn’t you want your great-grandson to see you?”

“Because, as far as he’s knows, his Uncle Jamie is dead.”

“Uncle Jamie?”

Jack looked at Trelaw, his expression one of bleak anguish. “That’s who Ryou knew me as-- his grandfather’s half brother.” A feeling of sadness swept through Trelaw as he began to understand Jack’s situation. Jack turned away, curling over the letter held in his hands as his eyes shut tight, the sound of suppressed tears now audible in each breath he took. “I can’t die. I don’t age. I can only watch the people I care for grow up, grow old, remember them when they‘re gone. I’d been there too long, I couldn’t stay any longer, there would have been questions that I couldn‘t answer. It was time for me to leave even though...”

He paused and opened his eyes to look down at the envelope. “None of them knew who I really was. I did what I could to help Ryou after Gwynneth and Amané died, protected him until I could get him to his father before disappearing from his life forever. Ryou used to send letters to me to take to his mother and sister after they died. He stopped sending them a few years back after word reached him… I didn’t know I still had this one. It was the last one he sent. I found it tucked away in my desk just before Gray…” Jack suddenly went silent and still, his muscles clenched tight as a bowstring.

Sensing his next few words were going to hurt, but knowing he had to speak, Trelaw asked gently, “Who is Gray, Jack?”

“My brother.” Jack’s voice was raw with pain.

“Where is he now?”

“I…” Jack shook, and Trelaw wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulders, offering what little comfort he could. “He’s…” Jack took a gasping breath, and on the exhale seemed to find the strength he needed to tell his tale.

“He’s gone,” Jack said. He turned towards Trelaw but didn’t look up at him. “Did you hear about the terrorist attack on Cardiff a few weeks ago?”

“Yes. It was a terrible thing.”

Jack looked down at the floor. “That was Gray’s doing. He engineered the whole thing to get at me. He wanted to destroy everything I loved in revenge for abandoning him.”

“Did you abandon him?”

“For a long time I felt that I had.” Jack opened his hands, the envelope resting on top of his palms, like an offering. “We were trying to escape an attack by creatures more horrible than you can imagine. I had Gray’s hand, we were just children, I was pulling him along, and then…” Jack shook his hand. “I don’t know when I lost him, I never felt his hand leave mine, but when I looked back, he was gone.

I tried to find him but I never did. Someone else did though.” Straightening, Jack carefully set the envelope aside and rubbed his face. “Gray had been captured, tortured for years.” He dropped his hands into his lap and stared straight ahead. “I couldn’t save him.”

“Is he…”

Jack shook his head. “No. I couldn’t do that, even if he is a killer. I put him into suspended animation and sealed him away.”

“Will you be able to help him?”

“Someday.” Jack looked down at his hand resting in his lap. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“You have the time to try,” Saul said gently. “Where there’s life, there’s hope.”

“I suppose.”

They sat quietly for a time, letting the quiet peace of St. Christopher’s soothe some of Jack’s grief. Saul began to sing, a wordless tune that brought a soft smile to Jack’s lips. There was still pain visible in Jack’s face, but it didn’t seem to weight him down as it had been when he first stepped into the church,

When the song was over, Jack said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Jack picked up the envelope, and turned it over a few times. Trelaw nodded towards the envelope. “Would it be such a bad thing to tell Ryou the truth? To simply be Jack Harness for once.”

Jack looked at him. “That’s not the name I was born with.”

“Ah.” He gave Jack a shrewd look. “So you do know the young man who is buried here.”

Jack nodded. ““Yes. I’d forgotten he was here. I took his name to run a con during World War Two. At first it was just a name, and then…” His voice trailed off as he looked away.

“Then you wanted to be worthy of that name.”

Yes. It was the name the Doctor knew me by and it was the Doctor who reminded me what it meant to be a hero.”

Trelaw smiled. “He does have that effect on people.”

“Yes he does.”

Jack flipped the envelope over a few times, and then stuck it back in his pocket. “Maybe it is time for me to stop hiding. It’s something I’ll have to think about.” He stood up and held out his hand.

Trelaw stood up and shook Jack’s hand. “Do you need to leave so soon?”

“I’d like to stay, but I should get back.” Jack sighed. “Grey did take away a few people that I cared for. I should be there for the ones he didn‘t get.”

“You’re welcome to come back if you ever need us again,” Saul said.

Trelaw looked up then at Jack. “And I’m sure Saul will be here to help you long after I am gone.”

Jack nodded and smiled. “I’m sure I’ll be back much sooner than that. Good day, Vicar.”

“Good day Jack. May peace be with you.”

“With you as well.”

As he watched Jack walk away, Saul asked quietly, “Do you think we helped him any?”

Trelaw nodded. “I believe so. It’s probably not easy for someone like him to find a sympathetic ear.” He sat, thinking about Jack, when there was a laugh from Saul. Trelaw glanced up. “What?”

“A few of the younger female members of the choir have arrived for practice.”

Smiling, Trelaw said, “And?”

“They just met Jack on his way out. He seems quite amused by their reactions to him. I think Mrs. Henderson is going to find it difficult to get anything other than enthusiastic squealing out of them tonight.”

Trelaw chuckled. Pushing himself to his feet, Trelaw said, “I should probably finish working on that sermon.”

“And maybe add a few things to it?” Saul said knowingly.

Trelaw smiled. “Maybe.”