Keep Dreaming

02:52 - Erin's POV

I gasped and sat bolt upright in the bed. Jesus, Jack's stories were getting to my head. I'd been having strange dreams about all kinds of aliens and bizarre creatures recently.
I checked the little Casio watch that resided on my dominant hand, although I already knew what it would say.

02.52 am.

The same time I had woken up every night this week, sweating and panicked. I sighed and unscrewed the cap to a bottle of melatonin pills on my bedside table. I swallowed them dry and slumped onto my bed again. I tried to focus on how I felt, tricking my brain into getting me to sleep faster - a "psychology hack" I had learned a few years back. However, it seemed that the more you knew about these psychology tricks, the less effective they became.
To me, at least.
I needed to get some sleep, though. I burrowed down into my duvet, wriggling around in an attempt to find a sweet spot that might knock me out. This proved to be more difficult than I had hoped, so I resorted to throwing a dressing gown on over my pyjamas.
Well, "pyjamas" is a stretch. I threw on a ragged hoodie with tracksuit bottoms every night.
I crawled back into the bed, hoping the extra layer of insulation might help me. And hoped, and hoped.

After laying on the bed unmoving for about an hour, still very much awake, I rolled over to my bedside table and checked my phone. 04:05 am. The familiar glow didn't hurt my eyes like it normally would at this ungodly hour.
I had a few notifications from since I last checked my phone before bed - mostly automated emails from companies I'd signed up to, some desperate Tinder messages from horny suitors. But as I scrolled through the notifications, something caught my eye. I furrowed my brow as I clicked the WhatsApp notification.

Harkness, Jack:
02:52
"Can we have an earlier session today? Five, maybe? It's important."

My eyes widened. I could feel that familiar pit in my stomach which swallowed me up whenever I got nervous. My skin began to prickle with ice-cold fear, sending a shiver down my spine. What could be wrong? This was really out of character for Jack. I wondered if it was appropriate to send a text back at this hour. I eventually figured that if he could message me at that ridiculous hour, it was probably fine for me to answer at an equally ridiculous hour.

Me
04:12
"Hi, Jack, that's fine. I'll see you then."

After hitting that "send" button, my whole body was on fire, pumping with adrenaline, as my mind raced at an intense speed. I had been trained to answer professionally, and I couldn't be caught breaking rules again. But what I really wanted to do was send Jack hundreds of concerned texts, desperate to know he was okay, as a friend would.
But I wasn't his friend, I was a professional. I had to be professional.
I knew there was no way I could get back to sleep now, but at least I had an excuse to get out of the house soon. I set about doing my makeup and brushing my teeth, popping on a slice of toast and cup of tea. I threw on whatever clothes I saw as soon as I opened my wardrobe with complete disregard. None of my usual, mundane routine seemed important now.
I just needed to make sure Jack was okay.

I locked up my flat and hopped on my battered bicycle, cycling with a fervour I hadn't before experienced. The wind whipped my face, cold and sharp, as I carefully cut a path through the darkness with the dinky light that sat atop my bicycle handlebars. I glanced down at my watch.
04:47. Perfect timing.
I sped around a corner and then dismounted my bike, laying it on the floor outside the offices. I didn't lock it up - nobody would have much interest in the decaying frame riddled with rust.

My stiff, frozen fingers fumbled with the set of keys before I grappled with the door, leaning my whole bodyweight against it to force it open. It was stiff on a good day - on windy mornings like this, it was hell.
I squinted my eyes as I punched in the numbers on the alarm panel, muttering them out loud to make sure I got them all right.
I flicked on the lights and speed-walked to my office down the hall. I checked the clock, now displaying 04:52 am. I sighed as I slumped down into my chair, bleary-eyed.
Just seconds later, the buzzer went. I got up and made my way to the door, knot in my stomach as I prayed that Jack was okay.
To my shock, it wasn't Jack standing at the door.
I opened it tentatively to see a tall man in a suit with a tight, mannerly smile on his face.
"Hello. Can I help you?"
"You can indeed. Mind if I step inside?"
Something about this didn't feel right.
"Who are you, might I ask?"
"Jack Harkness' lawyer"
The man said in a flat tone. I could feel my face go pale as my stomach dropped lower than I had previously thought possible. I felt as though I was about to be sick. A lawyer coming this early in the morning after an unusual text? This could only mean one thing in my books.
I looked at the man, lips pursed as I tried to stay calm.
"Come in. Can I get you a cup of tea?"
"That would be lovely, thank you."