Author's Notes: Timeline is based on the paper Ianto picks up in Day 2, dated September 2009. Thank you to stuffphile for the beta.

-1 year, 7 months

Alice isn't expecting the knock at the door as she tries to get Steven ready for school. For whatever reason he woke up on the wrong side of the bed and just doesn't want to do anything productive.

She answers the door, still yelling at Steven to brush his teeth. Her father is standing on the step, looking totally beaten down. She's seen him like this before, that New Year's after Steven was born, but not nearly this bad.

"Dad," she says, moving aside to let him in. He doesn't move, like he's waiting for permission. He usually just walks in. "You coming in?"

She closes the door behind him and Steven runs down the stairs, toothpaste still around him mouth. "Uncle Jack!" he cheers happily and launches himself into Jack's arms as usual.

She swears something breaks in her father and it chills her to the bone. Whatever's happened, it's bad, very bad. He holds Steven tightly. For a moment, she wonders if he'll let go.

He finally pulls back, brushing Steven's hair off his face. "How'd you like to go to the zoo?"

"No," Alice replies firmly. "He has school and if he doesn't hurry up, he's going to be late."

He looks at her, his eyes pleading. "Come on, one day won't hurt."

"I said no."

"I'll even help him with his homework."

She gets the urge to feel his forehead for fever because that was nearly parental.

"The three of us, little family day out. Zoo, pizza, maybe a film. Please, Alice."

Steven tries on his best Jack-pout. "Please, Mum!"

She wants to say no, she has to be firm with Jack, otherwise he'll walk all over her, but at the desperation on his face, she caves, sighing. "All right. Just this once."

By the end of the day, Alice is on edge and very weirded out. It had been a good day, Steven's had fun and the Welsh weather was on their side. But something's wrong, she knows that much. For all the non-stop talk, Jack's not actually saying anything. He's just off, barely smiling and joking, not flirting with a single person. His intense focus has been totally on the two of them. Not necessarily a bad thing, but it's not normal for him.

Nor is it normal that he hasn't checked in with or mentioned Torchwood for twelve hours.

He's all wrong.

She watches him at the table, helping Steven with the school work he missed, just as he'd promised. Jack's hand is constantly touching her son. His shoulder, his back, his hair, his face. He'd been like that all day with both of them. Once again she's struck with the feeling that he doesn't want to let go.

They get Steven to bed and she finally gets Jack alone. She corners him in the kitchen. "Talk."

"About what?"

"What's going on with you? You've been weird all day."

He looks like if she breathed wrong he'd shatter into a million pieces. "I should go."

She throws her hands up as he escapes to the hall, but she's not surprised. They don't have the kind of relationship where they confide in each other; he's too fond of his secrets and there's a part of her that can never quite trust him. Jack slips on the ever-present greatcoat and reaches for the door. He stops, closing his eyes. He turns and wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly.

"I love you both so much," he whispers in her ear. "Always remember that."

"We love you, too, Dad."

He kisses her cheek and he's out the door before she can stop him. But maybe it's for the best. She's not sure she wants to know what's so bad it could break Captain Jack Harkness.

She doesn't think of this day again until three months later, when his face is plastered all over the television as a terrorist.

-1 year, 6 months

She doesn't know why Joe invited her out to the pub just to tell her he'd moved in with her. A phone call would have more than sufficed, not that she really wanted to know in the first place. She's not interested in the tramp he dumped her for or their relationship. She's still too bitter about the divorce.

As far as she's concerned, they can both go to hell.

She spots the big black Rover with Torchwood brazenly embossed on the sides at the wrong moment. She's mad enough to let Jack off his leash, let him do whatever he wants to Joe. She walks over to it, it's empty. She looks around. There's no police tape, nobody walking around with strange gadgets, no one who looks like Torchwood.

She hears a sound coming from an alley, almost like a muffled moan. She heads that direction and stops at the corner. Jack's there alright. He has a much younger man – at least fifteen years younger than her – in a suit pushed against the wall and he's kissing him like it's the end of world.

She turns and heads back for her car, blushing and giggling slightly in embarrassment. No matter how old you get, no matter how young your dad looks, parental sex is never something one wants to witness.

2 days

She wants one last moment alone with Steven before the funeral starts, but Jack is standing at the open casket. He's touching her baby boy and he has no right. Not now. Not after he killed him. She wants to rip his arm off.

She wants to kill him. Over and over until he feels as dead as she does.

He'd probably let her and that makes her even angrier.

She stands next to him, arms folded. "I don't want you here. I don't want you anywhere near him."

Jack's hands drop to his sides. "I know."

Alice risks a glance at him. She never wanted to know what could break Captain Jack Harkness, but now she knows. She feels absolutely no sympathy for him. "You know, the only consolation I have right now, Dad, is you'll have to live with what you've done for the rest of your life. And it's going to be a very long one."

She hears a sharp intake of breath, but he doesn't respond.

"Mum was right. You destroy everything you touch."

He does what he always did best and walks away. She hopes this image haunts him to the end of time.

6 months

She's seen him standing in the street, hiding in the trees so many times. He never comes to the door, not that she would ever let him in. Sometimes, she calls the police, but he's always gone by the time they arrive. It's enough.

She still wants to kill him, but she thinks that would be giving him what he wants. She ignores him instead.

She sees him again as she's getting ready for bed. They look at each other through the window and she turns away. She turns out the light and slips into bed.

She lays in the dark, unable to sleep. These days, it always either comes too easily and she sleeps away days at a time, or not at all, and she spends the night staring at her ceiling.

She hears the sound of the lock and her front door quietly opening. She doesn't need to wonder who it is. She knows those footsteps anywhere. She gets up, debating on whether to confront him about the intrusion. She hears him walk to the kitchen, stop, and walk back out. She reaches the landing in time to see his back go through the door.

She goes into the kitchen to see why he'd come in. An thick envelope sits on the table. Inside is a letter, some legal paperwork and a set of keys. She reads the letter and can't believe Captain Jack Harkness is this much of a coward.

"Damn you," she curses.

He's turned over everything of his to her, so he can fuck off to space. He's not coming back.

She hopes he gets sucked into a black hole.

2 years, 4 months

It's pissing down rain in London and she's forgotten her umbrella. She's soaking wet, praying the rain hasn't gotten into her laptop, as she's escorted through the gates to Number 10. At least with short hair she doesn't have to worry about it getting messed up. Not that anyone would notice. Strategic planning meetings are always a bitch, ending up as a fight between the Home Office and the Ministry of Defence, and Torchwood. It doesn't help that Torchwood's representative at these things is always Johnson, who manages to be less politic than even Jack and shows up visibly armed with more than a Webley.

She knows now what happened with the 456, the details concealed by those involved: the blank page responsible for her father's horrific murder; the demands by the aliens and the reprehensible concessions made by politicians concerned only with covering their own asses; the freezing out of UNIT and the near complete destruction of Torchwood, the two organizations that exist solely to deal with alien threats. Her anger towards Jack hasn't diminished any. She still hates him for killing Steven, but she understands how he ended up in that situation, how Torchwood had managed to do so little. Her anger is directed elsewhere now. She's made it her mission to ensure that clusterfuck never happens again, that political interests will never sideline terrestrial security at such high a cost. Everything is changing and she will make Earth ready.

She's greeted at the door by one of the UNIT personnel, a Dr. Jones, who always looks at her a little strangely. Dr. Jones – Martha, she remembers – looks beyond her and smiles, giving a little wave to someone on the other side. Alice only turns her head out of curiosity.

Jack is watching her through the bars, his greatcoat soaked from the rain.

She's surprised he's returned so soon. Space must not have been his great escape either.

7 years, 8 months

Alice is used to her father's odd appearances. He never approaches her, she never approaches him. He just watches her from a distance. She ignores him.

Occasionally she wonders what he's doing, what he's up to. She knows he's not in Great Britain and not involved in anything to do with aliens anywhere in the world. She finds it hard to believe that he would stand by while Earth was being invaded, but it's happened. Captain Jack Harkness hasn't made an appearance in seven years, except to stalk her.

She's not surprised to see him the edge of the park, watching her from the trees, but it's the battered leather coat that really gets her attention. She's never seen him without the greatcoat. Ever. It's like Superman without the red cape.

She glances at the child playing in the sandbox and back at him. She can't stand the curiosity and beckons him over. He hesitates, but takes her up on the offer.

It's the best look she's had at him since Steven's funeral. The breath catches in her throat. He's older. She can see lines around his eyes and mouth, a few strands of grey hair – well that is the end of the world – mixing with brown. Her whole life he's looked the same, but now he doesn't. She doesn't know how to react to that.

"How are you?" he asks, sitting the bench next to her.

"Okay. You?"

"Getting by."

"Without the coat, I see."

"Lost it a few years back, long story. I nicked this one off a friend." He shrugged. "It was time for a change. You remarried?"

He should know this, it's only been a few months since his last visit. "Four years ago. He's a barrister."

"Ah. Kids?"

She points to the little girl with dark curls in the sandbox. She'd never intended to have more children, but still she ended up pregnant. He's never going to get closer than this to her daughter. "Lucia. She's almost three. And two stepsons almost off to university."

"Your mother would've loved that."

"You've been here since then. You've seen her."

"No, I haven't seen her. Not yet, anyway."

"What does that mean?"

He lifts his arm, exposing the ever-present wrist strap. "This is a time travel device, amongst other things," he says quietly. "It was broken for so long, the whole time I lived here, but I finally found someone to fix it."

She swears her heart stops and her breath catches in her throat. "You could go back and save Steven."

For that she'd forgive him, but he shakes his head, not able to even look her in the eye. "First rule of time travel, you can't change your own past. Very bad things happen."

She didn't think it was possible to lose her son all over again. For her own father to take him away twice. She hates him.

The bitterness seeps into her voice. "How long has it been for you?"

"About four hundred years, give or take a decade. Torchwood's supposed to be helping with colonization. I'm playing hookey."

She understands what he's not saying outright. Captain Jack Harkness isn't on Earth, that's why there's been no word of him. All the times she's seen him, he's from some point in the future. Visiting her in the past is apparently what he does with his free time.

"So you come here."

"I'll always come back, Alice."

"I really wish you wouldn't."

9 years, 5 months

She doesn't see him for two years. She's having a cup of coffee with one of UNIT's scientific advisors. Dr. John Smith is a very strange man. A very strange, familiar man. She asked one question about time travel and now his two hour temporal physics lecture was giving her a headache. And if he uses the phrase "wibbly wobbly timey wimey" one more time, she's leaving.

She watches him stiffen, his voice slowing down and his eyes scanning around him for something. She follows his gaze to the far side of the street. To Jack.

He looks startled. The greatcoat is back.

"Ignore him," she tells her companion.

John Smith levels a look at her and she's immediately reminded of her father. The eyes are far too old for his outer appearance, far too knowing. And he seems to know Jack....

Her eyes widen as she realizes who she's been speaking to. The Doctor.

"You know what happened. You know he had no choice."

"It doesn't mean I have to forgive him."

"He may have all the time in the universe, but you don't. Don't waste it on things that can't be changed."

She glares at him, holds his eyes long enough to see pain so deep, she can scarcely imagine it.

"Family should never be thrown away, no matter what they've done. You'll never get another chance."

She wants to respond, but he stands to leave. He looks back down at her. "He will die one day. Billions of years in the future, but he will die."

She hates herself for being relieved.

14 years, 3 months

She stops ignoring him. He still doesn't approach her, he waits for her to make the first move.

"How long's it been?" she always asks.

It's become a thing, she wants to know where in his timeline he is. He seems to be popping in at random points. A hundred years one visit, a thousand the next, four hundred fifty the one after that. There's no rhyme or reason to it that she can tell, he just appears.

Sometimes that's the extent of their conversation, sometimes they sit in silence, sometimes they talk. About her life, his life, even mundane things like the weather. The only thing they don't talk about is Steven.

"Do I have any brothers or sisters?" she asks him.

He doesn't answer immediately. She looks at him, he's trying to put the words together. She's learned time travel is hell on grammar.

"You had an older sister," he tells her finally.

"While you were on Earth?"

He shakes his head. "While I was at the Time Agency."

She's never heard of the Time Agency. She assumes this was before the Doctor; she knows so little about his life when he was still mortal.

"She died."

"How?"

"The ship she and my mom were on lost power. The backup generator wasn't enough to maintain life support long enough for help to arrive. She was ten."

The same age as Steven.

"The Time Agency stole two years of my memories. I lost the last eighteen months of their lives. They were the only family I had left."

"And since you left?"

"I've learned my lesson."

She doesn't ask what that means, she doesn't know and doesn't really care. She just takes it as a no.

18 years,10 months

For their fifteen anniversary, her husband takes her to one of the most expensive restaurants in town. She spots Jack as they're leaving.

Jack's eyes meet hers and he gestures to the pub across the street.

"I'll meet you at home," she tells her husband and kisses him.

He's not happy, she knows, but he says nothing. He's seen Jack before, though he doesn't know the story. She keeps Jack as far away from her family as she can. She doesn't know how she'd even begin to explain her father anyway.

Inside the pub, Jack is balancing a pint, a glass of red wine and a glass of what she guesses is whisky. It was always scotch if he was in a good mood, whisky a bad mood, and vodka if he was trying to die of alcohol poisoning.

She takes a seat at an empty table and waves him over. She takes the wine and watches as he downs his glass in one shot. Definitely whisky.

He's the oldest she's ever seen him. His hair is significantly grey, the lines on his face more pronounced. He looks older than she does and she doesn't know what to do with that.

"How long?"

"I saw my birth announcement in the newspaper."

"Really?"

"No, we don't do that, but if we did, I would've seen it."

She thinks that means he's arrived back at his own time. And that he's already been drinking heavily.

"5071. I'm twelve. I knew I should've skipped this century."

She swallows. He's been coming back to her for three thousand years. It's one thing to know he's going to live far beyond what she can actually imagine, it's another to actually face the reality.

"I found them. I could've stopped them. But I had to let them go. I could've saved them. Everything would've been better."

She sighs. She has no idea what he's talking about, but it's clearly bothering him. It's been a long time since she's seen him this undone. She wonders if it's why he's come back here tonight. "Dad, what are you talking about?"

Tears well up in his eyes and he looks like he could shatter into pieces at any moment. "The worst creatures you could ever imagine. We thought they'd pass us by, like always, but they didn't. My dad sent me off with my brother to safety. I was supposed to protect him. We were running away and I let go of Gray's hand. I was hiding in a tree and when I looked back, he was just gone. We never found him and it was my fault. I was supposed to protect him. Dad died and Mom never got over it, never got over losing Gray. It was like living under a shadow."

Alice closes her eyes. Lucy has accused her of the same thing, putting the dead child over the living one.

"You were twelve, Dad," she tells him. "You were a child. You weren't responsible."

He takes another big drink and wipes away the tears that have fallen down his cheeks. "I guess I never got over it, either. I got off that rock the first chance I got. Ran off and signed up to fight in my first war when I was sixteen. I never stopped looking for him. At least until he showed up and blew up half of Cardiff."

She remembers that well, the Cardiff bombings. He'd called her, desperate to make sure she and Steven were okay. She'd just thought it was because of the bombs, she never thought it had anything to do with him or Torchwood. A half a dozen terrorist organizations had taken claimed credit.

"I'm a rear admiral in the Trigalactic fleet now. We got a distress call from a ship on the edge of the Silver Devastation. I knew the second I saw it, I knew what had happened. I knew where they were going. I could've intercepted them, stopped the attack. But I had to let them go. I had to let them destroy my home. My family."

She almost doesn't want to ask. "What about after? Did you track them down?"

She's never seen the hardness, the coldness in his eyes. Her mother always warned her he was dangerous, she's know it since she was a child, but this, this is a level far beyond dangerous. It sends a terrifying chill through her body.

There's no emotion in voice. "I hacked their navigation system and sent their ship into a sun. Then I jumped forward and destroyed their planet."

She doesn't want to know what he did to the 456.

"Dad..."

With that, he starts talking, telling her about Boeshane, the Time Agency, how he came to be at Torchwood, about Gray's terrible revenge. He talks until he's hoarse. She says little, doesn't know what to say, has little space to say anything at all. He's unburdening himself.

They stay until the pub closes and he walks her home, still talking. On her doorstep, he kisses and embraces her. She wonders for a moment if he's going to let go.

"My beautiful little baby girl, I've always been so proud of you, of everything you've accomplished," he tells her, kissing her temple. "I'll always love you."

It's not until after he leaves that Alice realizes he's just said goodbye.

21 years, 1 month

Divorce number two hurts, really hurts. The bastard called her a "cold fish obsessed with her dead child," as he left her for another woman, a much younger woman. Lucy blames her, too. She's losing her family again and she can't handle it. She decides sobriety is overrated.

He finds her in a pub drinking herself stupid and starting fights. He carries her outside and deposits her in a cab, rattling off her address. She wonders how the hell he remembers. She can't even remember it at the moment.

Back inside her house, he dumps her still clothed in the shower and turns on the cold water full blast. She screams at him and tries to get up. She falls back on her ass.

When she's sobered up a little, he turns off the water and helps her up. He covers her head in a towel and maneuvers her into her bedroom. He towels her off and helps her change into her nightgown.

The bed is cold and empty, and one side will stay that way. She's sleeping alone, again. She can't stop the tears. "Why does everybody leave me?" she cries. "What's wrong with me?"

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you." He takes her face in his hands, forces her wavering attention to him alone. "I will always be here for you. Always."

She wants to hit him, tries and misses. He just chuckles and tucks her in as if she's five, not fifty five.

"I hate you," she says as she falls asleep.

When she wakes, she's not alone. He's asleep next to her, on top of the covers and still fully dressed. For a moment, it's like when she was a little girl and Daddy stayed with her to keep the monsters away.

The monsters aren't so easily slayed since she grew up, but for just this moment, it's enough.

32 years, 11 months

She's not exactly happy Lucy's marrying a man much older than her and from a council estate. But David's not the punk that she eloped with in Vegas and left her alone with a baby on the way, so Alice keeps her mouth shut. David has a good, steady job and is raising a child of his own, plus a mother that wants to do all the wedding planning. She's not complaining.

She's never been in Rhiannon's home before and she's looking at the photographs she has displayed. It's the coat that catches her attention. A young man with a much younger Rhiannon wearing a RAF greatcoat with Group Captain stripes. A young man she recognizes from a Cardiff alley years earlier.

Ianto Jones. Torchwood operative. Her father's lover.

He died in Jack's arms as Jack begged him not to leave him.

"That's my brother, Ianto," Rhiannon tells her proudly. "He died when those aliens tried to take our children. Do you remember that, the kids all talking alike? He was a hero."

Alice just nods.

She's not surprised when she sees him at the back of the church, nor is she surprised he avoids the reception line afterwards. She finds him on the steps outside. He's gone back to wearing the battered leather coat he always joked was a U-boat captain's and a pair of cowboy boots.

"Seriously? Cowboy boots?"

He shrugs. "Why not?"

"How long?"

"About 950 years, give or take a decade."

"So that's 29th century, the old Earth Empire?"

He smiles. It's a genuine smile, but it still doesn't reach his eyes. "Very good."

She sees Rhiannon looking at them, like she's seen a ghost. No doubt the woman recognizes him. "Did you ever meet them, Dad? Rhiannon and Johnny?"

The smile disappears. "At Ianto's funeral."

"I've seen the footage from Floor 13. You promised to remember him for a thousand years."

"He's a hard man to forget."

"Did you love him?"

He nods. "Yes." He takes a deep breath. "So, how did my granddaughter happen to meet Ianto's nephew?"

"UNIT Christmas party, three years ago. David works for the Ministry of Defence and I dragged Lucy along. She needed to get out of the house and be social. Wasn't expecting she'd come out of there with a date, but she's like you," she sighs melodramatically, "can't resist an opportunity to flirt."

He chuckles. Sometimes Lucy reminds her of him so much it hurts.

"Lucy told me they're naming their first son Ianto. It means a lot to David."

"He'd be honored. He adored those kids." He stops and looks over at the bride and groom. "There's an old tradition back home on Boeshane. Superstition, I guess. You name your child after someone you cared about and they'll always have a guardian angel."

"Please tell me Alice wasn't an old girlfriend."

He looks at her strangely. "You don't remember, do you?" At her blank look, he gently caresses her cheek. "Your name."

She remembers her mother put her in deep cover while she was a toddler and that her father used to call her something else, but the memories are vague. She shakes her head. "I know my last name was Moretti, not Harkness."

"Your name is Melissa. Melissa Rose."

And now she knows who she was named after. She laughs. "You named the child of two Torchwood operatives after Dame Rose Tyler of the Powell Estate."

"No, I named my daughter after the amazing girl that changed my life. I loved her. It hurt when Lucia took that away from you."

She knows exactly when he sees her ex and the new wife. He doesn't say anything, but his demeanor changes. Even after all these years, she's still holding his leash and all she has to do is say the word.

She not going to ruin her daughter's wedding day by starting a fight. But her father is a very good looking man and despite the few strands of grey hair, still looks fairly young. Her replacement can't keep her eyes off him.

She grins wickedly. "You sticking around?"

When he looks back at her, one brow raised, he knows exactly what she thinking. He always knew when she was up to no good. A grin spreads across his face. "I suppose it would be rude not to toast to the happy couple."

"Save me a dance, cowboy."

The thought occurs to her as she walks back to the wedding party that she has more of a relationship with her father now than she ever did before.

41 years, 9 months

She watches Lucy's cat chase birds from the window. David moved a comfortable chair next to the window so she can look out, but she sleeps most of the time these days. The cancer has spread fast. She knows her time is almost up.

The sound of the door opening and closing doesn't register. Lucy's taken the kids to school and is stopping at the store, she should be home soon.

The footsteps in the hall aren't Lucy's. She'd still recognize them anywhere. She thinks she can even hear the swish of the coat.

She waits until the footsteps stop to turn her head. She doesn't have the energy for much more.

He's just as she remembers him from her childhood, but much sadder. All the effects of time are missing.

She gives him a faint smile. "How long?"

He looks confused, as if he doesn't understand the question. "Alice?"

She looks away. "That little," she says, mostly to herself. "You always did like jumping to the end to see how everything worked out."

He moves an ottoman in front of her chair and sits down. "How are you?" he asks, barely able to get the question out.

"Dying. And you look the same as you did when Mum died."

She shouldn't take potshots at him, she knows, but she can't help it.

"I'm sorry."

"Isn't that the story of our lives."

She opens her eyes to find herself back in bed. He must've brought her upstairs when she fell asleep on him. He's holding a few of her pictures in his hands, the happy ones she keeps next to her bed.

"He really loved that bike," he says, holding up the picture of Steven on the bicycle Jack had bought him for his sixth birthday.

She just smiles. The memory doesn't hurt so much anymore. She likes remembering the happy times. "How long has it been for you, Dad, since Steven died?"

"Ninety-two years."

It's the earliest visit she knows of. She wouldn't be surprised if it's the first since his vortex manipulator was fixed.

"What's it like? Dying?"

Tears well up in his eyes as he takes her hand in his, rubbing it against his cheek. "It's just like going to sleep. You won't feel a thing."

She thinks he's lying, but she'll defer to his superior experience on the subject. She's not going to come back to know any different.

"I've been thinking about that day at the zoo. Steven swore up and down he saw a cat person and a big head in a jar, and laughed his head off when I spilled my tea down the front of my shirt. And you narrowly missed being nailed when that ape started throwing shit."

He just smiles. A tear falls down his cheek. She can't tell if it's because he hasn't done it yet or if it's just a painful memory. Or both.

"Don't you dare cry for me, Jack Harkness," she says, wiping away the tear. "I've had a long life. Everything has it's time and this is mine."

He's broken, as broken as she's seen him. The self-loathing in his eyes, it takes her breath away. She knows how long he has to live with his decisions, how long this pain will eat at him. She sees the reddish tint on the coat's collar and wonders how many times he's taken his own life in ninety-two years.

He's punished himself more than she ever possibly could, more than any human lifespan. And he has billons of years more ahead of him.

She doesn't want to go to her grave with this hate in her heart. It's not worth it.

She weakly tugs his head and he leans in close. She whispers in his ear. "Even when I hated you, Dad, I still loved you."

With her last breath, Alice Carter does the unthinkable. She forgives her father and lets go.