𝖚𝖓𝖘𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖉𝖍𝖖

Gwen had to resist the urge to shake Jack. The smugness was honestly getting to her. But first things first… 

Smiling politely at the pair, she nodded at Owen. “Mister Harper, are you a doctor? Could you give me a description of your … patient’s injuries? And castle, you say?”

Turning towards Jack, she met his stare head on. “I’ll answer your questions after I take your statement. First thing though - you haven’t given me your name and age. And did you say you walked over to the cab to check if the driver was alive? And that you could see the driver breathing?”

“I am,“ Owen replied, eyeing her warily. “Yes, we live in a castle, the place is bloody huge and too big for two people, if you ask me. But if you’ve got more money than sense than why not, right?“ Owen shrugged and leaned back into his seat-appearing much more relaxed in front of Gwen. “As for injuries, his head was cut at the back for when he landed, his back was a mess from-yeah, I don’t need to tell you everything because I responded at the scene while being off-duty. I have my license but I don’t work at any hospital.“

The vampire looked over at Owen and frowned disapprovingly before realizing that, in his own way, Owen was still protecting him. However, it wasn’t lost on the ancient being that Owen also, somehow, still had feelings for the Welsh woman.

Jack sighed, “Jack Harkness, and last I recall I was...” he squinted, looking up at the ceiling, “thirty-five.” Lowering his gaze back down to level with Gwen’s. “I walked close enough, but I never got directly near the cab or put my head through the window-if that’s what you’re asking. I could see movements, I could see the chest raising and falling, as far as I remember, that means that he was breathing.”

It was only when they hit the police station that James’ brain caught up with him. “48 hours?!” he spluttered. “But I have a paper defense tomorrow! And I haven’t prepared - not that I need to, because genius, really, but …” 

“Look, just answer the questions, and you can go home,” the harried looking cop said to him. “Alright? Now if you’ll just stay in this room while we take statements from other witnesses, we’ll be right back…”

–

Gwen knew that she was seriously breaching protocol by letting the two do a joint interview, but there was more to this story and she wanted to make sure she ferreted out as much of the truth as possible. If it meant being a little bit nice and giving concessions, well, she wasn’t above doing that. “Let’s start with the basics - your name, age, where you’re from, then you can tell me what happened in your own words.” She smiled at Jack, even while she mentally took note of what he’d said.

So he’d gotten into an accident, gotten up, checked in on the other driver like everything was normal, then calmly trotted over to the local for a round with the mates. Seriously, did he think he was fooling anyone?

“Owen Harper, twenty-nine, London, I came running from the castle to find my master-” Jack clawed the table at that, causing Owen to clear his throat and continue- “Sorry, patient lying down and kissing the sky, he was unconscious, barely alive, and I was able to get him up and going. Simple as that, really.“ Owen replied, giving Gwen a tight-lipped smile.

“Will the cab driver survive?“ Jack tried again, knowing that the question would eventually get under Gwen’s skin if he asked it enough. “I want to know, you know, to help out with medical expenses or vehicular ones, if he needs it.“ He steepled his fingers as he placed his elbows onto the table.

“I was crossing the street, and shamefully didn’t look before I did, and was hit by the taxi.“ He recanted, giving Gwen a long, unblinking stare. “I believe in that moment I had a very near-death experience and found what it felt like to hit a lamp post at a high speed.“ He gave a small smile. “Owen saved my life and I was able to get up and due to shock, I made my way to one of the few places in London I know, which is Witch’s End the lovely pub you found us in.“

Gwen had to resist rolling her eyes when Jack mentioned ‘her type’. By which he either meant that it was ‘a place for the blokes’, or ‘not a place of coppers’. “Believe me,” she said. “I’ve been enough bars and I can hold my own.” 

And she did have backup outside the bar. She was Welsh, she wasn’t stupid. 

Turning to the skinny one, she nodded at him. “You were at the scene, weren’t you? You’re coming with me too.” 

“You could tell?” she said, glancing over at Jack. “Eyewitnesses said you didn’t go anywhere near the cab after you got up. You’ll have to tell me all about it. Come on.” Sighing a bit when Jack mentioned the 48 hours, she nodded. “You’re not under arrest – yet. Let’s try not to change any of that, yeah?”

Moving out of the bar, she gestured them Jack and Owen towards her car, and the skinny one - she really needed to ask him his name - to Andy’s. She could feel any number of eyes on her as she left, and she had to admit - the bar was a little creepy. 

“No, I’m sure you could handle yourself, but not here.” Jack replied, giving a nod and a wave towards the werewolf fellow before doing as he was told and climbing into the cop car. “Much cozier now that they’ve decided suspects were people too,“ he commented to Owen, who nearly curled himself up into the corner and gave a giant huff towards Jack.

“Suit yourself,“ the Vampire replied, giving a shrug. He watched as James got into the other car and smiled to himself as they left the bar.

---

“Would you like me to start on giving my account of what happened or would you like to ask the questions?“ Jack stared up at Gwen from where he was seated in the interrogation room. He had insisted Owen be in there with him, and though it wasn’t the norm, nobody in the station could have told him no.

Ordinarily, Gwen wouldn’t have been involved in a simple traffic accident, even one that involved a fatality. But a traffic accident that involved the dead victim getting up and walking away? That was very definitely her beat. 

And she wasn’t a copper for nothing. When the man - the doctor, by the description of witnesses - started to say her name, her suspicions rose by yet another notch. Who were these people? 

And the “dead” one hadn’t even bothered to change his clothes. 

The woman they had been speaking with vanished quickly as soon as she arrived - which was yet another thing to be suspicious about, but she hadn’t been at the accident scene, so Gwen let it go for now. 

“I want all of you to come with me,” she said, keeping her voice calm but firm.

“Wait, are we under arrest?” the skinny bloke in a slightly ill-fitting suit exclaimed. 

“No,” Gwen said, mentally thinking not yet, “I just have some questions and we need to take statements from you.”

Jack stole a glance at where Meg used to be, smirking that she even managed to take her whisky bottle with her. Truly, she was a demon devoted to her vices. Raising a brow, he smiled politely at Gwen once more. It was nice to see her, and he was glad that she had made something of herself in this life.

“I think it would be wise to go with you, this bar isn’t a place for your type.“ Jack said steadily, watching the werewolf in the corner sniff a little too much at the air. “Owen and I will answer any questions you may have for us, I can’t say for the other man, but he provided to be a good witness at the scene.“

The vampire knew what this was about, it was obvious the moment Gwen entered the building. “How is the cabbie, by the way? I really hope he’ll make it through, but from what I could tell he wasn’t dead when we left.” Jack scooted himself out of the booth and moved to stand behind Gwen, blocking her human scent from the rest of the supernaturals.

It was really the fact that Meg seemed to be dead serious that told him that this wasn’t a joke. Well, that and the fact that he’d seen Jack come straight back to life, and this seemed like way too elaborate to be a set up. 

Plus, he was scientific enough to not discount something just because it hadn’t been proven, although the fact that they had just confirmed that reincarnation happened was… well. That was going to throw a lot of major religions on their head. 

But wait, hang on. He glanced over at Meg. “You’ve been around all this time too? What, are you a vampire too? And what about Owen? Did Jack…” he glanced over at the other two. 

Raising his eyebrows at Jack’s comment about not getting out much, he shook his head. “When was the last time you left your, uh, castle?”

He was about to go on when a commotion at the door caused him to look up. A police woman was striding across the bar towards them, very purposefully. 

Meg stared at James, there was a glimmer of curiosity behind her eyes as she tilted her head a bit to the side. “I’m older than anyone in this room.” She whispered, taking another long pull of her whisky. “James, if I told you what I was, I think you’d explode. So let’s save that for a rainy day-” Meg was going to say more on the ever-living Owen when she noticed the very same policewoman that James had.

“Great, she’s back,“ she muttered, ready to slip out of the seat and disappear into the shadows.

Owen had made a face when James insinuated that Jack had turned him, and though he was ready to give a reply, his face stuck and he turned to sharply give the policewoman a glare. “Gwe-” he stopped and glanced at Jack before looking down at the table.

James wasn’t sure what Jack was laughing about, but he was starting to put together some theories.

The first thing was that Jack and Meg somehow knew him - and so did Owen - even though he had no recollection of them. His eyebrows drew down in a frown when Jack mentioned thousands of years, trying to figure out if the man was pulling his leg. “Dead to begin with,” he said. “Right. But you’re walking, talking and breathing, so… just a guess, you’re some kind of zombie? No, wait, human blood. You’re a vampire.”

He couldn’t stop the sarcasm from leaking into the word. Vampires didn’t exist. Or if they did, they didn’t walk around getting knocked down by cabs. Honestly.

“They’ve known me for centuries,” he repeated after Meg, trying - for her sake more than Jack’s - to be polite. But honestly, that was the point at which this whole charade just fell apart. “I’m not calling you liars,” he said patiently. “It’s just that what you’re saying isn’t… well, the truth.”

Honestly, he had wanted to walk out on them, but he didn’t want to prove Meg right. Nevermind that he had just proven her right. Damn.

“Look, I might have fallen for this if you had said that you had wiped my memory of previous encounters, but unfortunately for your theory, I haven’t been around for centuries. Unless you’re saying I’m dead and immortal too.” He chuckled dryly. “No, I’m pretty sure Dracula didn’t go around getting hit by cars.”

Jack let out a bitter laugh and sat back in his seat, he gave Owen a glance before turning to fully face James. “Breathe? No, I’m not breathing... I’m pretending to be breathing but there is a difference.” He paused and glanced off allowing a distant and almost faded memory to seep into his mind. “No, I don’t remember what fresh air tastes or smells like.”

He shook his head, allowing James his disbelief and theories. He could feel the sarcasm and though it annoyed him, he understood it.

When Meg finished her speech, she waited for James to give her some sort of dry remark - it was a bit of a surprise to her that James was attempting at being kinder to her. Really though, she thought the kindness would have been better spent on Jack. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, when she came back with a new bottle, she resisted rolling her eyes before staring dead-eyed at James.

“Look, we’ve been at this crap hole of a game for a long time now; so here let me spell it out for you. You keep dying, you keep being reborn. Each century there’s a new you with the same face and same, forgetful soul. Each time, we find you. So no, you’re not dead yet and you’re not immortal.“

She opened the bottle and took a swig before leaning back and glancing at their other party and shrugging. “It’s not fun for him to figure out anymore, okay?”

James noticed the sigh from Jack, and wondered at it. Something about this whole set up felt unnaturally familiar, the same way Jack had. 

Watching Meg down the bottle, he shook his head fondly before turning back to Jack. “Oh, I thought you might know, since you seem to know me so well.” He raised his eyebrows. “Just a gin and tonic for me, thanks. And why don’t you start from how you managed to come back from the dead? Or were you not dead to start with, and what’s the deal with the magic potion that Owen fed you?” 

The sense of humour that James had never ceased to make Jack smirk or let out a soft chuckle. In this case, it was both. He nodded at the tender to get James his drink before turning to address the man’s concerns.

“To truly tell you about the first question, I’d have to go back thousands of years- but to spare everyone at the table I’ll take the easier route and just say that I was-and am-dead to begin with.“ the vampire stated simply, as he folded his hands neatly onto the table. “And it wasn’t a magic potion, it was blood-and much to my distaste-“ he gave a side-long glance towards Owen, “human blood.“

At that, Owen raised his beer and made a face. “Well giving you rabbits after you’ve been clocked clean wasn’t going to do much, was it?” He countered, giving Jack a look.

“They do know you, by the way, they’ve known you for centuries.“ Meg interjected, keeping her gaze level with the table and her voice low; rather uncharacteristically quiet for her. “About now you’ll call us liars or you’ll bolt and lock yourself in your room and think about what has happened. Then about a couple hours later I’ll stop by and knock some sense into you and also prove it all. It’s how it happens, it’s how it always happens.“ Meg finished, picking up her empty bottle and sliding out of the booth to head towards the bar to get another.

“Again?” James demanded. “What do you mean again? And what do you mean this life?” The two of them definitely knew more than they were saying, and he really didn’t like the way this conversation was going… not that he had the foggiest idea of where it was going.

“No, hang on, let me guess.” He glanced between Owen and Jack. “Either this is some very elaborate practical joke - though I still want to know how you stopped your pulse - or you’re going to tell me that first, people come back from the dead, and second, you know me from a previous life, and, oh, I don’t know, Meg’s a demon or something.” His gaze slid over to Meg as she appeared with uncanny timing, almost as though mentioning her name had summoned her.

Definitely creepy.

But at least she seemed to know them, and she seemed fine with them, which allowed him to relax a little and allowed his curiosity to get the better of him. “The last time you said nothing bad is going to happen, I woke up in your flat with no memory of the night before, lipstick on my collar, my pants missing, and the worst hangover in history,” James pointed out, but he was already moving to join him. 

Well, he supposed, so much for prepping for that paper defense. Good thing he was a genius.

“Besides, I know you, Meg. You never stop at one drink.”

Jack let out a bit of an impatient sigh. He knew that James would ask these questions, and he knew that he wouldn’t believe him at first once he got the answers he was clearly looking for. It was a repeated pattern and something that the Vampire had gotten down to a science.

Heading towards the pub, Jack opened the door to allow his party in first before he followed them and moved to a shadowed booth to the back corner. The tender knew who he was, he knew who Meg was, and certainly knew what they were. When they’d all safely seated themselves, Owen ordered for the table before turning to allow Jack to speak.

However, Meg was the first to pipe up to soothe James’ worry, and to also retort back to his story he’d just accounted. “Well nothing bad did happen, you had fun and so did I, and so did everyone at the party.” She paused and gave a glance towards Jack who was staring a hole into her. “And the losing of the ‘pants’? Yeah that was all you, buddy.” She smirked, leaning back into her seat and taking the bottle of whisky from the tender. “And no, I don’t. But then again, one drink to me is one bottle.” At that, she began to down the bottle.

Oh yes. The taxi driver.

Given that the driver hadn’t come running up to check what had happened, James strongly suspected that nothing good had happened, though hopefully the man was just concussed and not dead. Not that dead seemed to mean what it usually did.

Trotting after the not-so-late crash victim, because, really, what else was there to do when something like this happened, James tried to catch Owen’s eye. “Can someone just tell me what’s going on? I don’t suppose this is some kind of candid camera episode, or that you’re doing some filming for a movie? Because I really don’t see any cameras around right now.”

He paused. “And how do you know my name?” 

Honestly, this was all starting to creep him out just a little, and he was the one who tasted random lab chemicals for fun.

He did, in fact, have a friend called Meg. She was probably his only friend in London right now, since she’d joined UCL at about the same time he’d started his postgrad. As far as he could tell, her life revolved around sleeping, whiskey, partying and more whiskey, but somehow, she always managed to pass her classes. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure what her major even was.

But how on earth did this Jack person know about her? 

“Actually…” he said, starting to back up a bit when he realised that Jack was heading towards a quieter side of town. “I sort of need to run. I guess you’re fine now, so that’s all well and good, but really, things to do…”

As much as he dying from curiosity here, he was starting to get the unsettling feeling that he’d just gotten in over his head. 

Owen was pretty content to ignore James and his confusion. In fact, he even smirked at the thought of leaving James into that state. It wasn’t until he could feel Jack’s disapproval that he decided to give the younger man a break. “It’s not, it’s real life and something you’ll have to get used to...” he paused “again.”

“What Owen means is that you’ve been brought into a different side of life that you aren’t accustomed to in this life.“ Jack looked over his shoulder and smiled gently at James. “We know your name because...“ he was a bit stumped at an answer for that one, he hadn’t thought it through that much about how to handle that - but then again he’d just been hit by a cab.

“They know your name because of me, kid.“ Meg, the ever-socially brilliant demon appeared from the pub that they were heading to. “Don’t worry James, they’re weird, but they’re good people.“ She gave a shrug as she leaned against the wall and watched her only friend. She would consider Jack a friend if he wasn’t eternally annoying and emo. Besides, James was her responsibility, he always had been.

“Hey Jack,“ she gave him an attempt at a smile before barely giving Owen a glance. “I see you’ve brought your ass.“ At that Owen gave a mix between a snort and a huff. “Is that brim fire I smell? Or putrid swill? Either way, it suits you Meg.“ Owen retorted, giving her a wry smile.

James was about to protest that the man was obviously dead and what on earth did Owen think he was doing… but curiosity made him hold his tongue. Staring as the self-proclaimed doctor pulled out a blood bag, he made a comment about that “not doing a whole lot of good, surely”, which went ignored as the doctor proceeded to … pour it into the man’s mouth.

“Um,” James said, then shut his mouth again as … a miracle started to occur before his eyes. He stared in utter disbelief as wounds started knitting and–

“Right,” he said, dumbfolded, as a corpse came back to life right before his eyes, and spoke to him. Surreptitiously, he pinched himself just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming.  

“Blimey,” he managed, words failing him for the first time in his life, as he glanced between Owen and the no-longer-dead stranger. “Someone care to explain what just happened?”

Except that it seemed that explanations were possibly going to have to wait. In the distance, the sound of sirens split the air - it seemed that the real doctors had just arrived.

For all the good that would do now.

Jack propped himself up and broadened his smile towards James. The poor man was probably traumatized and knowing Owen’s bed-side manner, he was confused and a little bit insulted as well. Slowly, he stood and dusted himself off before pulling his coat around him.

That’s when he remembered the other victim in the accident. “The driver,” he glanced around until he spotted the cab that had threw him. “Has anyone checked on him?” The Vampire cleared his throat and began to head towards the cabbie when he heard the sirens in the distance. Glancing back at his servant, he met James’ gaze for a moment before nodding to Owen.

“They might be coming for me, but I’d rather them attend this man.“ He spoke softly before moving back towards James and Owen. “If you’d really like to know what you just witnessed, then I’d suggest we head to a quieter place... preferably a little ways away from the scene of the crime.“ He smiled once more, before turning and heading off towards a pub he’d grown accustomed to and didn’t ask questions that was a few streets down. 

“If you’re still following James, my name is Jack, and it’s always a pleasure to meet you.“ He called over his shoulder, placing his hands into his own pockets. He knew Owen would follow, Owen always followed, but a part of him was always afraid that one day James wouldn’t. And when that day came, the ancient being wouldn’t quite know what to do.

James had just drawn back when he realised that there was someone yelling at him. Numbly, he glanced up at the stranger, vaguely registering the words ‘I’m a doctor’ and stepped back. 

That gave him a moment to realise that there was no ambulance nearby. “Hang on,” he said suspiciously. “Who are you and what are you doing with …” he gestured at the body. “Shouldn’t we be waiting for the paramedics? Just because the poor guy is dead doesn’t mean that you get to do whatever you like with the body!”

Owen blinked at the man and for a moment considered throttling him prematurely before his 30th birthday. Jack wouldn’t have to know, in fact, for all Jack knew James would have died in the car accident. Briefly he wondered what that would have entailed if he had admitted to the Vampire that he killed him. Would Jack end his life finally?

The appeal to it almost seemed too good to be true.

Blinking back into the present, the caretaker let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “My name is Owen, if you’d really like to know.” He paused and then mumbled a ‘of course I’ve told you that a half dozen times over the centuries’, before giving a quick, mirthless smile. “The paramedics cannot do anything to save him, he’s dead, and he’s also my M- patient.” He frowned, this was going to be a lot harder than he thought it would be.

“Now, James, would you mind not cocking this up for me? If you want this man to get well, then you might want to either sod off or obscure me from view while I feed him.“ He’d lost his patience already and was beginning to pull out the very warm blood bag. “Shriek, scream, holler for authorities and I’ll have your head in my bag.“ He warned, giving James a sharp look before opening the bag and pouring the contents into Jack’s mouth.

James Smith, postgraduate student at UCL’s Department of Physics and Astronomy, was minding his own business. He had a paper to defend the next day, and he’d procrastinated on practicing for it for so long that he was wondering if it was better just to wing it entirely. 

After all, no one ever seemed to take his theories on the time vortex seriously.

Still, he mused, the time vortex was quite real, no matter what everyone else seemed to think. Granted, by real, he meant ‘theoretically real’, since he hadn’t been able to observe it directly, but all his calculations showed that it was a real possibility, ergo, it was real, though try explaining that reality of a thing that no one had observed to a bunch theoretical physicists who would just snidely throw Schrodinger’s Cat and her entire litter box back at you. At the same time, the very fact of the matter (ha, matter, anti-matter, had anyone observed what he had done there?) was that Schrodinger’s theory of quantum superposition meant that the vortex both simultaneously existed and simultaneously didn’t exist until observation collapsed the waveform, which meant that he was, in any case, right.

Physics jokes aside, he told himself, it really boggled the mind how people didn’t recognise his theory as sound. After all, there was plenty of literature dating back to Einstein discussing the metaphor of gravity as a sheet, which meant that clearly, there had to be something in between the sheets – not in that way, thank you but no thank you for the unhelpful contribution, theoretical John Hart (ew, why did he had his fellow postgrad student in his head now?) – and if gravity influenced the physical, then the vortex was surely a clear representation of the metaphysical–

A massive bang, neither the Big Bang nor the kind of bang that Hart would have preferred, derailed his train of thought. He spun, jangled nerves still screaming, dimly registering that he’d just seen a man go flying.

Funny, a part of his brain said, it didn’t seem the same as it did in movies.

Moving on autopilot, he raced over to where the crash victim had landed, fingers automatically seeking out a pulse at his neck. He’d been flung into a lamp post, probably wrapping around it and shattering his spine, and there was already a lot of blood pooling on the floor from what looked like a shattered skull. Deathly still and…

… yes, no pulse.

Biting his lip, he reached for the man’s wrist instead, trying in vain to find a pulse there too, but… nothing. 

People were running up now, someone saying something about having called for an ambulance. “Too late, mate,” James said, even as he looked down at the man’s face. Something about his features seemed horribly familiar, although he was certain he’d never seen him before. And, it seemed, would never see again. 

Owen always had a sixth sense when it came to Jack. Quite possibly because he’d been with the depressing vampire for centuries and it was only then that he realised he had a friend. And of course as much as he considered Jack as a friend, he also despised him.

Despised him for keeping him alive for so unnaturally long, despised him for forcing (encouraging) him to go to school to become a doctor, and despised him above all for constantly chasing that bloody human who always had a knack for dying by the age of 30.

It was going to be a hell of a long day.

Rushing through the streets of London, Owen silently cursed himself and his Master as he approached the scene of the crime. “Move! Bloody move, I’m a doctor, get out of my way!” Shoving his way through the crowd and eventually to Jack, Owen knelt down and began to check him over.

Sighing, he knew what to do, but he needed to get rid of the crowd first. Glancing up he scanned the faces until he came across one in particular. “Oh, of course.” He muttered, staring James down before shaking his head with a bitter look upon his face and taking his gaze back down to Jack. “Alright you lot, get lost, I’ll handle this man and do what needs to be done. He’s dead, congratulations you’ve seen a dead body, now shoo.”

He needed to get the blood pack from his bag into Jack’s mouth as soon as possible, but he couldn’t with- As the crowd seemed to disperse, all but one remained. Which, naturally, Just happened to be the object of his Master’s affections.