A/N: A companion story to "Coffee, Ms. Cooper?" but it can be read without.

There'd been a number of arguments over who was telling who. Rex tried to stay out of it, but Gwen and Jack dragged him into it anyways. Rex suggested they tell all of them together, but that idea was lost amidst the arguing. In the end, they'd flipped for it.


Jack gritted his teeth as he knocked on Martha's front door.

Her face lit up when she opened the door. "Jack!" she hugged him. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking in on you. How are you?"

"Fine. Come on in!" she opened the door wider and Jack followed her inside.

"You didn't do too bad for a freelancer," he said, glancing around the spacious house.

"Oh, don't get started on freelance," Mickey grumbled, limping down the stairs leaning heavily on a cane.

"What happened to you?"

"It's an epic tale. Just don't let Martha tell it."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't fabricate the details," Martha said, folding her arms.

Jack smiled at the couple.

"I could put on some tea, if you like," Martha said.

"Sure. Mickey can tell me his made-up tale—"

"It's not made up!" Mickey insisted.

Jack rolled his eyes, "Mickey can tell me his not-quite-fictional story while you make some tea and then we can get to business."

"Business?" Martha raised her eyebrows.

Jack forced a smile. "Business. Just, put the kettle on, Dr. Jones. Or is it Smith? What did you decide on in the end?"

"Smith-Jones," Martha clarified.

Jack and Mickey sat on the sofa while Martha hurried around in the kitchen behind them.

"So... your injury?" Jack prompted.

"We were on the run during Miracle Day," Mickey said.

"From UNIT," Martha said. "They were mad that I'd left. And when the world suddenly stopped dying, they looked for people who might have access to alien technology. Mickey and I were pretty high on their list of suspects."

"I thought you were going to let me tell the story," Mickey said.

"Sorry."

"Couldn't you just explain to them that you weren't involved?" Jack asked. "They can't be worse than Torchwood about something like that. Even if one of our members left, I'd at least hear them out."

"We started running when they showed up. I thought they were after us for a different reason," Mickey said. "A few months beforehand we were forced to kill a Slyveen. There were civilian casualties, a couple demolished buildings. The whole thing was a mess. UNIT was already mad enough at us; we were worried this was the last straw. And incarceration by UNIT has never been at the top of my priorities. Brigadier wasn't there to vouch for us as companions..."

"UNIT hasn't been the same since he left," Jack muttered.

"We had to run," Martha said. "There was an insane amount of running going on. It was like being back with the Doctor. Except for the shooting. I honestly don't remember being shot at as much."

Jack snorted.

"That's when I got use out of the Miracle," Mickey said.

Jack swore. "You were shot by UNIT?"

He nodded. "Martha and I were in the middle of an amazing car chase. They shot out our tires. We ran out of the car and into an airport, full of civilians, thinking they wouldn't try to shoot us in there."

"Unfortunately, my dear husband seemed to rule out airport security," Martha said, a tone of annoyance in her voice.

"My story," Mickey said. "Go make your tea."

Martha rolled her eyes.

"Yeah... airport security held us up. As we were being led out, we broke free and started running. I was shot twice. One in my leg, and one in my shoulder."

Jack swore again, staring at Mickey.

"Martha manged to get me to safety and we were on the run again. When the categories started..."

"We had a real reason to be running," Martha said. "UNIT seemed to realize that burning people alive was wrong, and it put its foot down then and there. It was almost disbanded entirely for insubordination. At that point, they accepted us back with open arms. They fixed Mickey up; he was in bad shape. I'd been doing what I could, but it wasn't very much without the proper equipment."

"Martha blew ovens to the sky while I was recuperating," Mickey said proudly.

"Atta girl!" Jack grinned.

Martha blushed. "It wasn't that big of a deal. Lots of us were. Most of the old companions were doing the exact same thing."

"Anyways, the Miracle came to end," Mickey said. "And by then I was healed enough to not be in any danger. Although just after it ended, someone attacked us again. I still don't know who. Re-opened the wound in my leg."

"Probably the Three Families. Although, that's strange considering you weren't that involved in stopping."

"Whoever it was, it's like I'm a walking target."

Jack chuckled. "You can't say that to me of all people."

"I was shot three times in less than a year."

"A couple dozen times in a night."

"What were you doing?" Martha stared.

"Well—"

"Don't answer that," Martha said quickly.

Jack rolled his eyes, "So, how's the money coming as freelancers? You wouldn't be needed a job would you? We still have an opening for a doctor, and I'm sure we could make room for Mickey. We don't have a technological expert. Just me, Gwen, and Rex: three trigger-happy Torchwood members. If you have any love for this planet, you'd sign up to balance us out."

Martha set the tea kettle down and handed Jack a cup.

"Alright, Captain. The truth."

"What?"

"You don't just 'check in' us on us. Why are you here?"

Jack put the cup on the coffee table, frowning at them. Mickey and Martha had matching stubborn expressions. He sighed. "Gwen's had a Code 13."

"Gwen?" Martha straightened.

"What's a Code 13?" Mickey asked.

"She's had an encounter from above," Jack said meaningfully.

"Oh," Mickey said.

"I don't know how to put this..."

"Did he take her with him?" Martha asked, her eyes widening.

"No! No, she's fine. She'd never leave Rhys and Anwen."

"So what's wrong?"

"The Doctor talked to Gwen because he knew she wouldn't try to stop him, unlike us."

"Stop him from doing what?" Mickey asked. "Is he alright?"

Jack fought off the urge to run away. He and the Doctor had that in common. When in doubt, run off. Jack gritted his teeth and told them, "… He's dead."

"What?" they asked simultaneously.

"He's gone. Not regenerated. He's dead."

"No. That can't be right," Martha said. "There's no way."

"I'm sorry," Jack said.

Martha shook her head. Mickey took her hand in his. "Are you sure, Jack?"

Jack nodded. "I did a bit of poking around over the past month. Everything matches up."

Martha nodded stiffly.

"It happened earlier this year. In Utah," Jack slammed his fist on the table. "We were right there during it. Just a day or two away."

Martha's expression remained confused. "How did—"

"I don't know. I really don't. But I'd sure like to get my hands on whoever did."

"If you do find out, let us know. We'll help," Martha said.

"Did you find the body?"

"I didn't look," Jack said.

Martha nodded. "I understand. Thank you for telling us."

"You had the right to know," Jack shrugged. "And I had to. The entire world rests on our shoulders. Gwen and Rex have gone to tell Sarah Jane and her group... I'd better go. Thanks for the tea."

He stood and left. As he reached the street, he glanced through the window. Martha's head was bowed and Mickey had a hand on her shoulder. Tears trailed down her cheeks.

Jack closed his eyes, wishing more than ever that a blue box would come screeching into view around the next corner.