Cardiff Wales, Roald

9th November 2009

Then

The anger and burning rage that simmers through his veins is enough to make Captain Jack Harkness have a hard time controlling the abilities that he has so desperately kept hidden since he was a child. It is a side of him that he never wants to expose. It is a darkness in him that makes him feel his emotions in such an extreme manner. It is because of the intensity he can feel emotions, that he has discovered the hard way that his abilities are dangerous, if they hadn't been trained and controlled with an iron will. Every time he has lost control, for just a second, something horrible happens. Whether it is the death of someone innocent or causing pain in someone he cares about.

Jack never likes to think about the disasters that his abilities can create. They are a curse, it is as simple as that. Nothing anyone says to him would change that opinion, not after everything he's been through, because of these abilities. It is these powers, or so called "gifts", as his captures called them, that caused Jack to be hunted and experimented on. He always said he didn't remember the "Two Years", as he called him, that the Time Agency had taken from him. That isn't technically the whole truth.

He does recall something from that time. Pain. Agony. Rage. Terror. The flashes of faces that came and went just as quickly. And then there were the sounds of agony filled screams, the crying of children, and the grief. It is something that has inflicted upon him at night. The nightmares tortured him, causing him to awaken in sweat filled dread. It is why he has keeping an ear and eye out for the Doctor. He is the only one that he could or would go to for help on this. If there is anyone to help him, it is the Doctor.

It is one of the reasons he dislikes that world. As he grew older and his memories of a past life became a little clearer, it made Jack hate that world even more. Not only did that world take everything from Harry Potter, but they used and abused him to the point that there was nothing left of him. Harry Potter had been negatively affected by the Wizarding World, that he had once thought so great. By the time Harry Potter died at fifteen, Captain Jack Harkness discovered that for a few small moments Harry James Potter was relieved, happy even, when he learned that he was dead. It was that memory that made Jack hate the Wizarding World for what they did to a mere boy, a child.

The mere fact that they thought it is perfectly fine to use a child, and Harry Potter was still a child even if he was fifteen when he died, makes Jack very tempted to wring every person's neck who thought it was perfectly acceptable to use an adolescent to do something an adult should have done. Every obstacle and adventure that Harry Potter went through, an adult should have done it. Harry Potter had been so abused and neglected because of those relatives of his, and he had a few choice words about how they treated him. At the first scrap of positive attention, Harry had been willing to do whatever he thought would make other's keep him around.

Jack growls in frustration and anger at his thoughts. Just thinking about the life that Harry Potter had lived and the things he had gone through is pissing him off even more. If he didn't stop, he will be liable to truly hurt those witches and wizards when he sees them again, and he will see them again. This whole thing reeks of their machinations. If there is one thing he has learned in his long life, it is that those in charge never like getting their hands dirty. They always have others do the dirty work for them. And Albus Dumbledore, well Jack knows all about him. He's been keeping track of the Wizarding World, both in Europe and the United States of America, and so he knows all about his past and the things he's done.

He also knows all about what has gone on in America. With Grindelwald and his Alliance, Grindelwald impersonating Percival Graves, Newt Scamander and the incident in New York City, and so much more. It is with little wonder that the Time Agency had him stepping in and saving Percival Graves and utilizing his particular talents for their use, while everyone else in that world believes him dead. The Wizarding World, Jack sneers in utter contempt for those individuals, makes utter cluster fucks. It is little wonder that they haven't been discovered yet. Especially with the current situation he and his team are dealing with.

The Immortal's brilliant blue eyes scan the streets warily as he continues to walk further down the street. He firmly pushes the thoughts of Harry Potter and the Wizarding World to the back of his mind. He will deal with Dumbledore and his group of people, after he deals with this cult of witches and wizards and their leader. He strongly believes that these sycophants need to be taught a lesson first, and then he will deal with the second part of this mess. For now, he is a man that needs to deal with what is going on around him.

From his position in the middle of the streets, he looks for any signs of life.

All he finds is death and chaos.

From where he stands, the nauseating smell of the burnt flesh of innocents whips through the air, hanging over the street like fog on a rainy day. It makes his stomach turn with nausea. He has seen and experienced more death than most grown men. He has been the cause of many of them, but that doesn't mean he didn't have a heart. To know that other humans, whether they are wizards or witches, are still willing to kill the mundanes, the No-Maj's (as they are known in some parts of the world), who have no idea why this atrocity is happening to them, makes him more furious. He hasn't thought it possible for him to raise to a higher level of rage then he is already at. These witches and wizards, with their petty war, that has no logic and no reason, except for causing early deaths and destroying families of the mundanes...it makes him want to knock a few heads together.

Jack suddenly turns, spinning out of the way of a bright green light that nearly collided into him from behind. While the Killing Curse was not likely to have killed him, he feels no interest in experiencing dying once again. He has experienced a new record of not dying recently, and he plans to keep it that way. The hassle that came with being brought back to life once again is headache inducing. It is not a pleasant experience, particularly due to the fact that he feels his body healing itself inch by inch. To feel his body knitting itself back together again: organs, muscles, bones, and nerves healing itself piece by piece is something that one ever truly got used to.

Sharp electric blue eyes squinted as he scanned through the exuberant and densely fogged street. Thick smoke hovered above his head in a haze of grays and blacks. Fires burned buildings and cars in shades of dark oranges, vivid reds and muted yellows. The condensed heaviness in the air was likely choking anyone who stepped outside the protection of their homes. Ash fell from the sky like snow on a blustery morning. From the corner of his eye, Jack noticed movement slipping between shadows. His fingers twitched as they went for his gun. He would only ever use his abilities if it was absolutely necessary.

With a quick flick of his fingers, he draws out his gun and holds it to his side. Raising it he points it towards the dark shape that flickers into view, and fires. The gun releases a deafening bang, making anyone nearby have their ears ring, as the bullet charges out. A cynically pleased smirk curles his lips upwards as the dark robed figure collapses onto the ground and stays still. A determined glint appears in Jack's eyes as he walks further down the street, shooting any black shaped figures he sees, without a care of the life he is destroying.

It is kill or be killed and he is going to make damn sure that he survives.

Jack slowly continues his way down the chaotic filled street. The screams of pain and fear echo in his ears, sending chills down his spine. It makes him recall the vivid recollections of his nightmares. It is something he doesn't want to remember. Black boots crunch and thump against the asphalt over broken glass, wood, and metal that clutter the streets. It is a war zone, filled with debris and the deceased. A heavy frown appears across his face as he continues to pull the trigger of his gun, reloading it when necessary, and using some of his abilities to fish out the Death Eaters that are hiding like cowards.

Jack comes to a slow stop at the sight of a figure standing over a shaking girl. She looks no older than nineteen or twenty. Blue eyes turn colder, like flints of ice, as they stare into crazed eyes. "Well looky here. Someone's come out to play with me," the man cackles with a wicked glint in his eyes as he stands before Jack.

The Immortal releases a sigh of annoyance as he looks the figure over. Shaking his head, he raises his gun and fires. The bullet shoots out and flies through the air at rapid speeds. It is much faster than any other 21st century gun is. It has a bonus of being a technology advanced weapon, making it special to use against the unaware. It connects to its intended target, dead center in the middle of the man's forehead. The body collapses to the floor with a dull lifeless thump.

He has no time to deal with lunatics when he has one in particular in mind to deal with.

"Are you alright?" Jack asks the girl with concerned eyes.

The young girl nods shakily. Her whole body is shaking in utter terror as wide chocolate brown eyes stare up at him. "I- I'm fine. T-t-th-hank you," she stutters out in gratitude.

Jack nods before carefully leaning down to help her stand. He stares at her in a firm gentleness as he speaks. "I want you to run for cover. Understand?" He orders calmly. "To whatever area has protection, there should be law enforcement there."

Without another word, besides a quick look over the shaking and crying girl, Jack continues his trek further down the street, where the waves of power he can feel is coming from. Jack knows who it was, and he will deal with the bastard and the rest of his lap dogs, before dealing with a few chickens and it's leading turkey. A few chickens and a turkey are going to clipped a few feathers short once he is through with them. He already has a few idea for them in mind, and he has no concerns for the pain he may cause them. As for the ones he has in mind, they will certainly deserve it for the unnecessary deaths and carnage they caused. While they may not have been the ones doing the damage, they are the cause for why it is happening.

Jack has no doubts in his mind that once he taught them their lesson, both of those little groups a lesson, they will be much more hesitant to pull a stupid stunt like this again.

It's like teaching children the difference between right and wrong.

Jack released an exasperated huff of air; he is getting too old for this shit.

Vurture Street

Heavy pants for breath can be heard in the near silent street. The only other sounds are the crackling of buildings burning, the heat of the flames consuming the buildings and anything in its path. Footsteps slap loudly against asphalt and cement. Through a burst of smoky fog, black cloaked figures chase after Gwen and Owen. The Torchwood Three teammates hearts pound rapidly in their rib cages as their lungs constrict with desperate need of air. Ash falls heavily in a swirl of gray clouds, much like ashen snow flurries. "Keep...keep going Gwen," Owen gasps out. A grunt heaves from his chapped lips as he stumbles over a tipped over trash can.

Owen grunts as he falls to the floor with a thud. Gwen slides to a stop and turns back. She reaches down to the ground and pulls the man back up. "Come on Owen, get up!" She orders as she helps him up and begins to push them to run faster. The pair hunch down, and watch as the the bright green light that was shot out at them, hits the wall ahead of them. The duo skid to the right, down another alleyway, as they ignore the sounds of crackling and crazed laughter from the group of Death Eaters chasing after them.

"Bloody lunatics, the lot of them," Owen huffs out in frustration as they dodge and duck the lights that continue to be thrown out at them. "Jack better know what he's damn well doing," he adds to the brunette haired woman. The medical officer of Torchwood Three was merely assisting the injured, as Gwen helped him, when that damned group of Death Eaters saw them and gave chase. Now, here they are, running for their bloody lives as these witches and wizards taunt and cat call after them.

"If I still had my gods be damned gun, I'd be dealing with them," Gwen grumbles under her breath as she and Owen take a sharp left, just as part of the wall behind them blows off in a cloud of dust. She is still sore over the loss of her gun. Had she known they could disarm her with a quick movement of their sticks and a word, she would have carried additional weapons upon her body. "How much farther until we meet up with Jack?" She asks as she pushes herself to move faster. The taunts of the jackasses behind them are merely background noise as they continue to lead the bastards behind her to their trap.

"Two blocks, give or take." Owen replies with a small shrug as he glances over his shoulder. "I have to give it to them," he says conversationally, "they are rather determined blokes and birds aren't they?" He asks rhetorically. After encountering so many near death experiences and unusual situations, being chased by humans with the ability to use magic, is nowhere near his weirdest experience in his time working for Torchwood Three and with Jack. For Christ sake, he and most of the team have died, until Jack did something that caused them to be brought back to life, after that incident that no one spoke about, they just went about their lives. It is an unspoken rule, as they all still don't know what or how he did it, but whatever he did, they are all thankful and know not to push the Immortal for more information.

If there is something that the team has learned, over the years of working with Jack, it is that while Jack, for all appearances, is a flirty, easygoing, and unruffled individual, he is also far more beneath the surface. That facade or persona, however you want to call it, is only as thick as skin. Jack is a much more dangerous and powerful individual then many would think, due to his air tight facade he shows to everyone and thing. Over the years however, Owen, along with the others, have seen more of the true Jack beneath the surface, and respect the Immortal for his abilities and competency.

"For God's sake!" Owen yell as he and Gwen are suddenly thrown forward through the air and out into the street ahead of them. The pair soar a few feet through the air before they roughly crash into the asphalt of the street. The pair roll to a stop a few yards away, nearly on the other side of the street of the alley they had just been in, with a groan. The pair lay on the ground for a moment as they try to catch their bearings. "Fuckin' hell!" He grumbles and winces as he slowly pushes himself to his feet. Gwen follows the medic, allowing him to lead them, as they carefully take notice of the Death Eaters starting to gather further up the street.

Lingston Avenue

Ianto and Toshiko

Ianto and Toshiko run through the alleys, the crackling and hooting laughter behind them cause the pair to run faster. They dodge and duck the bright lights that the wizards and witches behind them are throwing at them. The pair skid to the left, taking a sharp turn as the wall behind them explodes in a mess of debris. "How much farther?" Tosh asks her friend with a gasp of breath. The thick smoke hanging through the streets is choking, making it difficult for them to breathe as their chests constrict.

"Not too far," Ianto replies with a huff. His face glistens with sweat and drips down the sides of his face. They have been running through the streets and attracting the attention of these wizards and witches to lead them to the trap at Justify Street. The mad plan that Jack came up with is smart, but dangerous. They have no real idea on what will happen once it is set up.

"Oh good, I was beginning to think we had gotten lost or something," she replies with a sassy tone that is common for her.

Ianto merely rolls his eyes and continues moving, his footsteps steady and sure as Toshiko follows behind him. He can't help but think back on the reaction to the Wizards and Witches that appeared not so long ago in the Hub. He can't recall a time that Jack reacted to a situation or person that severely. The last time was with his grandson, and another was his brother, but those times were few and far between.

"Watch it Ianto," Toshiko whispers harshly as she yanks him backwards by the last second. The pair hold their breaths while they lean silently against the wall. Toshiko and Ianto watch stiffly, and with some degree of fear, as the group of dark robbed figures run past their hiding spot. Ianto continues to grip the bag of materials tightly in his hands, so tightly is he gripping the bag that his knuckles are beginning to turn white.

"I'm really beginning to not like these people," Ianto mutters over the pounding of his racing heart echoing in his ears.

Toshiko turns her head to look at the taller man with disbelief. Her eyebrows raise and her head tilts in curiosity. "You're only now starting to dislike them?" She scoffs with a shake of her head.

"What?" He snaps defensively at her rather judging rhetorical question.

"Nothing," she replies with raised hands in an effort to calm him. "I immediately disliked them when we figured out that they were the cause of the Rift fluctuating and allowing those other aliens through."

Ianto shook his head at Toshiko. "We don't actually know that they're the cause," he replied as he began to set up the last piece of the trap for Wizards and Witches. "Even if Jack seems to think so," he muttered under his breath. It was clear to Ianto, and he could only assume his other three teammates, that they also had seen the loathing and disgust that Jack had for the Witches and Wizards. Let alone the anger he seemed to hold for them. It made Ianto curious for the reasons. It had to be more than just the assumptions that they had thrown at Jack.

"They're obviously from London, with their accents," Toshiko responds stubbornly back as she keeps her eyes on their surroundings. She doesn't want them to be caught unawares because of their conversation. "It's strange, don't you think, that after Jack sent that first group away, this second group has appeared?" She asks her friend with legitimate interest in Ianto's response. "They must be working together, or at least someone from that first group told this second group where Jack was," Toshiko says with a frown.

"It is a little circumspect," he agrees with a nod. The machine he is fiddling with finally hums to life. It leaves a charged and electric sensation in the air as the alien technology, something that they have all been initially wary of using, begins to connect with its "siblings". It was going to be one large sphere of energy that would, they hoped, keep these sycophants from causing anymore damage to the innocent civilians.

The sounds of police, ambulance, and fire truck sirens are heard throughout the city as the crackling of fire from cars and buildings burn, making the thick black smoke hang heavily in the air. It is difficult to breathe for anyone outside, as Ianto and Toshiko make their way cautiously through the alleys once again as they run closer to the designated location. They are supposed to meet up with Gwen and Owen.

Now

Jack continued to battle against Voldemort, the Wizarding World's current Dark Lord. Jack's lips were thin and pressed harshly against each other as the two fought. It was like a dance, as Jack and Voldemort fluidly moved, none gaining the upper hand. Rather, they were evenly matched and the sheer power that they emitted, could be seen in the air, in an array of colors. "I feel as though I should say something witty," Jack began in a conversational tone of voice that belayed the fury he was feeling. "But, I'm not feeling particularly in the mood to use wit," he said with a steely glare of determination.

"You are nothing like the pathetic teenager I faced against in the graveyard so many years ago," the Dark Lord responds conversationally in return. He dodges a burst of what looks like lightning that shot out from the Captain's hands. Whatever this creature is now, he certainly is not a wizard, Voldemort muses to himself as he tosses one of the darker curses he knows, only for the seemingly mundane man to smoothly roll out of the way of.

Jack sighs and rolls his eyes at the Dark Lord's remark. It is honestly getting irritating and redundant, reminding these people that he is not Harry fucking Potter. "I am not Harry Potter," he snaps in a growling tone of voice. As much as he hates letting this dark wizard see his remark affect him, Jack is just done with everything. "My name is Captain Jack Harkness," he honestly didn't care if they knew his name. He can only assume that whoever told Voldemort about this reincarnation bullshit, had to have informed him of his name as well. "and I'm really fed up with you all obsessing over this reincarnation bullshit."

There are times when Jack wonders if he has really unfortunate luck. Everywhere he goes, death, mayhem, and war seem to follow. He has a feeling that this sort of feeling was a common occurrence for him, back before he became who he is now. He growls at the thought. His eyes flash and appear to look like a rolling storm over an ocean. "You people," he spits out with contempt and in a tone that Purebloods use for Muggleborns and Muggles, "need to get the hell over yourselves. I would have left you all have your petty squabble and only stepped in when I had to."

There was a clear change in the air, as Captain Jack Harkness stared down Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It was like being in the eye of a hurricane that was only moments away from exploding in a fury. "But you had to drag me into something I had no desire to be in." His voice is low but can be clearly heard over the howling of the wind that whips and nips at their clothes and skin.

"Now you've pissed me off."

Gwen and Owen reaches the street that their Captain and Leader has ordered them to meet up with him, only to stare in shock as the fierce storm rages overhead. The pair hold onto each other and lean against an undamaged car. The most astonishing sight is Jack, and what looks like a snake like man with no nose, fighting fiercely and violently between each other. The black cloaked figures are being held back by the howling and fierce winds that curl around Jack and the Nose-less Leader.

The pair has never seen Jack fight so viciously and furiously as he is at that moment. It shows, in his movements, that he is a warrior and that he fights with a grace and skill that is unmatched. The build up of energy is making it hard for them to breathe, as if the air itself is condensing. The pair can only turn and squeeze their eyes shut when a sudden explosion of bright white light, like a lightning burst, explodes outwards from Jack and the Nose-less Leader. The light spreads out like a discharge from a bomb, and covers the wizards and witches, making them disappear with a deafening bang.

Gwen and Owen drop to the dirty debris filled ground. Across the way they can make out Ianto and Toshiko also collapsing onto the ground. Their ears are ringing and their surroundings look blurred and warped. The bright light is still affecting them to the point that they can barely see or hear well. The group of four push themselves to their feet when they see the blurry figure of their leader collapse to his knees in exhaustion.

"Jack!" Ianto yells with fear fraught in his voice.

The Torchwood Three team run towards their leader. They stand in a semi-circle around him with concern, worry, and unsettling discomfort at the sight he makes. His clothing is torn from what appears to haven slashes from a knife or sword. Blood decorates his skin like a macabre painting. His usually tan skin looks sickly pale with sweat drenching his skin. Overall, he looks like utter shit.

"Are you alright Jack?" Owen asks as he carefully knelt down and began to check his leader over.

Jack huffs a tired laugh, "I could be better Owen," he murmured with exhausted blue eyes glancing over his team in concern. "Are any of you hurt?" He questions seriously. His muscles ached and spasmed, but he could already feel himself healing, his skin knitting back together inch by inch.

Before the group could say anything, the sounds of cracks of apparition filled the air. Tosh, Gwen and Owen turn angrily to see the same witches and wizards that had appeared earlier in the Hub. "What the bloody hell are you people doing here," he yells out with a fury that none of his teammates have seen from him before.

It seems these witches and wizards bring out the worst in all of us, Ianto muses to himself as he watched Owen, Gwen, and Tosh ream into the group. Their condescending replies irked at the man, but he was too concerned over Jack to give his own scathing response. Instead, he focused on his Captain, who was silently healing and gaining more energy while his body replenishes itself. "Are you alright Jack?" He asked in a murmur, as the angry yelling grew louder.

"I'm fine, Ianto." Jack replies just as softly and quietly. He gibes the other man a warm squeeze of his shoulder, before pushing himself up from the ground, and looking drunk with his imbalance. He doesn't say anything as he stumbles his way over to the Order. Rather, he merely pulls his curled hand back and punches Dumbledore square in the nose. The satisfying crack of his nose breaking made Jack's teeth bare in a snarling sort of smile. With his other hand, he pulls his gun out, and points it at Snape. The dower man pales even more, before he freezes as Jack lowers it to the floor and pulls the trigger. The bullet shoots into his foot, leaving the man to howl in agony and collapse on the floor. The absolute chaos his reaction caused, has the Torchwood Three team snickering in satisfaction. After the day they had, it was warranted.

"Fuck off and leave me and my team alone, or what I did to your asshole of a leader and his bloodhound, will be the least of your worries," he threatens. Turning on his heel, Jack and his team begin to make their way back to the Hub. They ignore their cries and keep walking. Jack is far too done with everything, and just wants to rest in his office and forget this hellish day ever happened.

If only things could be that easy.

For trouble was stirring in the distance, and it would be up to Jack and his team to handle it.

It's been a long time since I updated this story, and I do plan to continue to do so. I just needed to heal before I got back to my "baby" so to say.

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter.

I also hope everyone is keeping safe during these scary times. That you are wearing masks and social distancing!

As always, reviews are always appreciated. XD

TheWeepingRaven