Torchwood( A Torchwood/Captain Jack Harkness Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Eleven: "Get Some Air" (Extended)

"Lizzie...Lizzie Lewis..."

"You're a bad one Ed Morgan."

"Are you the-ere?"

"The girls said not to go with you and they were right!"

"Am I bad? Li-zzie. Am I a bad boy? Lizzie Lewis."

"Help me! Help me!"

I bolted awake from my nightmare, tears streaming down my face. The light turned on and Jack was in the doorway.

"Nightmare?" He asked. Instead of answering him, I just covered my face with my hands and broke down, sobbing. He sat down on the bed, pulling me into his lap. He kissed the top of my head. That's when an idea popped into my head.

"I need some air." I walked over to my dresser, grabbing a set of clothes. I walked into the bathroom, changing, grabbing my coat, and leaving. I walked to the nearest telephone booth.

"Cardiff PD, how can I help you?"

"Barb?"

"Diane? What are you callin' me for? Haven't heard from you in ages."

"I need to cash in on that favor you owe me." She sighed.

"What do you need."

"I need you to look in the files for the murder of Elizabeth Lewis. I need you to look at a list of her neighbors."

"Ok, just a second. Got it."

"Is there an Ed Morgan on that list?"

"Ed Morgan...there's an Edwin Morgan?"

"Yes, perfect, I'll need that address."

~~~

Once it turned light, I knocked on Ed Morgan's door. He came to the window but quickly ducked back inside. I peered into the mail slot.

"Mr. Morgan? I need to speak to you. It's urgent."

~~~

"Who said there was gas? I can't smell anything. There's nothing wrong, or I'd have noticed. Can you smell anything?"

"Could we move to the living room, Mr. Morgan?" I asked.

"There's nothing in here. No gas fire, I mean. There's an electric heater. I don't hardly use it. What are you looking for."

"Sit down, Mr. Morgan." I sat across from him."There is no gas problem. That's not why I'm here, I mean."

"Well then, what're you doin in my house?"

"How long would you say that you've lived here?"

"Years, this was my Mam's house. Why?"

"You must remember old neighbors well. Such as...Mabel Lewis?"He visabley tensed."She passed away, but not before she moved away to avoid the memories of her daughter, who was murdered in nineteen sixty-three. Lizzie Lewis." I sang in a sing song voice. I leaned forward in my chair that night."Are you there, Lizzie? You see, I know what happened that night under that bridge. It was raining, she was dressed in pink, her hair soaked from the rain, much like her face was soaked with tears as she begged you to just let her go home to her mother."You're a bad one, Ed Morgan." She told you her friend tried to talk her out of going with you, but she didn't listen and she ended up dead, at your hand. Didn't she? DIDN'T SHE?!"

"GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" He stood up, grabbing my arm tightly and dragging me to the door."GET OUT!"

"Feeling guilty?"

"You'll get nothing from me! I told you before, you'll get nothing from me!" He opened to door, pushing me out so I fell to my knees on the pavement."GET OUT!" He slammed the door shut, and a man down the pavement looked at me.

"Just a misunderstanding." I told him. I walked back to my car, and saw a boy, smoking, on the way to the car. He bent his head down when he saw me coming, but I recognized him."Bernie Harris!" He ran, but I chased him around the fence. We ran past an old lady, and through a clump of boys playing soccer.I chased him over yard fences, until we reached one, gate locked, and barbed-wire over the top of it. I grabbed his jacket, slamming his chest against the wall.

"Don't hurt me, please, I've got Asthma!"

"I'm not going to hurt you. Come with me." I grabbed my phone and texted Jack.

Got Harris, come now.

~~~

"Why do they call you Bernie?"

"Burned my neighbor's shed down when I was twelve."

"Why?"

"Just havin' a fag, got carried away, like." Jack came up behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Well, isn't this cozy."

"If this is about those dodgy fags, I dunno, I dunno what happened to 'em, all right?" Gwen tossed him the machine and he put it down on the table.

"Well, it's worth knowing we're probably the only people you can tell."

"Me and my mate was using this lock-up down on Moira street. Used to belong to this old guy. Soft in the head, he was. Still loads of his stuff in there, but we chucked most of it. There was this old biscuit tin full of foreign coins, weird bits of rock, and that. Thought it might be worth something. I might take it down "The antiques Roadshow."" I chuckled.

"Well you never know! Cash in the attic all that. SO, I takes the tin home with me, and that thing started switching itself on. It makes you see things. Real things. Real people." Jack put a hand on my knee. "I was down the old wharf in the bay. I seen this woman with a bundle, something wrapped up. It was night time. She was putting it into the water all secret like. It was weird because-"

"It was like you were her." I finished for him.

"Exactly. She was scared because she knew what she was doing was wrong. I knew, without seeing, it washer baby, wrapped up...dead. She hadn't told anyone. Then she ran away, and I realized I knew her. She's old now, but she lives up by the Catholic church in Splott. So I goes up to see her, toldher what I'd seen, she gave me money not to tell anyone else."

"You blackmailed her?!"I asked, disgusted.

"She offered. Look, I've seen things you wouldn't believe-"

"I've seen them too!" I yelled, suddenly angered. It was a blinding rage that couldn't even diagnose.  "You think I don't know? I know. I saw a girl being raped and murdered! I felt her pain! How scared she was! I know! I KNOW!" Suddenly Jack's arms wrapped around my waist and I was dragged out of the bar.

"You need to go home. Now."

"I know Jack...I know..." I said, whispering and almost collapsing in his arms.

"I know, Diane. I know. Shh...Just go home, alright? I'll see you as soon as I can. I nodded.