So I have submitted myself to eternal pain and torture by joining the Doctor Who/Torchwood fandom. The only possible conclusion to this tragic twist of events was to write a crossover between the two. I may die during the writing process. Who knows with these shows?

Anyway, I really love AU stories where one of the Torchwood characters is the Doctor's companion, and there aren't very many of them. Therefore, I decided to create this story. Canon at some points, AU at others, I'm not really sure what anyone is going to make of this. I hope you enjoy, though!

Rated T for swearing, sexual innuendos, violence, character death, slash, and the mere fact that Captain Jack Harkness is a character.

Pairings: Jack/Ianto and Eleven/River

Disclaimer: I am not responsible for your endless heartache. That responsibility lies with Russell T. Davies and Steven Moffat. I am not to be blamed for their misdeeds.

Sticking with DW canon up until The Snowmen, and I don't know how canonical this will be in terms of the Torchwood timeline. We'll have to see.

Prologue: Torchwood Hub, Cardiff, Wales, 21st Century

"Is that a short-sleeved shirt that you're wearing today, Ianto Jones? I didn't think you owned one."

Ianto turned away from the bubbling coffee machine in front of him to greet Jack's smiling face. The aforementioned man was grinning almost maniacally, eyes flickering up and down, though constantly focused on Ianto's bare arms. Ianto almost rolled his eyes – He knew that this was going to happen from the moment he put the shirt on this morning. He almost regretted it. Almost. And it wasn't like Jack hadn't seen him in short sleeves before - Jack just liked being melodramatic.

"Suits were at the cleaners," he shrugged his shoulders. "Had to make do somehow."

"Glad you chose this as the appropriate way," Jack said, still grinning taking a step forward to lean against the countertop. "You should wear that shirt more often."

Ianto hid a smile as he poured the newly created coffee into five different cups, one for each of his coworkers and for himself. "Wouldn't want you to get too excited, now would we?"

"Morning Jack, Ianto!" Tosh poked her head into the room, smiling, before changing her expression to one of confusion. "Hey, you're not wearing a suit."

Ianto really did roll his eyes this time. "It's not a law that I have to wear a suit every day, you know."

"What, Ianto isn't wearing a suit?" Gwen's voice rang out as she strode into the room fully, past Toshiko so that she was standing immediately in front of both Ianto and Jack. Her eyes widened as she saw that Tosh's previous statement was correct. Ianto wondered how he got stuck with such overdramatic idiots for coworkers. At least he could count on Owen not to react; or, if he did react, in a subtle and not shell-shocked way.

"Yes, I am not wearing a suit," Ianto picked up two cups of the hot, caffeinated liquid from the table, handing one to Gwen, and the other to Tosh, who had entered the room fully now. "Shocking, I know."

Tosh frowned as she reached forward to take her coffee cup in her small, dainty hands. "Is that a scar on your arm?"

"What?" Ianto glanced down at his arms, only to see the slash mark on his elbow was being displayed prominently to both Tosh and Gwen. The thing was so old he'd nearly forgotten about it. Since joining Torchwood, he'd gotten quite a few scars, but this was the only one that he had received since before he had even begun getting involved in alien affairs. "Oh, yeah, it is."

"I've been meaning to ask you wear that came from," Jack had taken his own coffee off the table without Ianto's consent, and was now drinking it calmly. "Never really got around to it."

Ianto shrugged. "I couldn't tell you, since I really don't know myself."

Jack set his coffee back on the table, a crease in his brow. "You don't know?"

"I know I received it sometime between age nineteen and twenty-one," Ianto took his own coffee form the table now as well, relishing in the bitter taste. The only cup left belonged to Owen, who was, as usual, late. He probably had another hangover.

"Well, that's a broad spectrum," Tosh said.

"Not my fault I can't remember anything about those two years," Ianto ignored the incredulous glances of his coworkers as he took a sip of his coffee. Hmm. Not as good as yesterday's. Perhaps he'd added too much sugar.

"You can't remember anything?" Gwen nearly choked on her drink.

"From age nineteen to twenty-one?" Jack's cerulean eyes were wide. Ianto almost chuckled. He'd managed to catch everyone off-guard quite a bit, hadn't he?

"I've honestly never told you this story before?" The other three shook their heads, still staring at him. "Well, it's not much of a story. Just after I turned nineteen, I was staying with my sister and her husband for a couple of weeks. I went out one night and never came back. Two years later, I appeared at her doorstep again, unconscious, with the only mark on me being this scar. I couldn't recall anything about what had happened."

"You're full of shit."

It appeared Owen had finally entered the premises. Ianto rolled his eyes as he passed the shorter man his coffee.

"Not lying," Ianto said. "I honestly have no idea where I was or what I was doing during those two years."

"No way in hell is that the truth," Owen took a long sip of the caffeine, most likely to dispel the hangover that Ianto was nearly positive he had. "Unless you were retconned, which I highly doubt. Besides, can retcon even erase a whole two years?"

"It can if it's an overly large dose," Jack's eyes were curiously roaming Ianto's face now, and everyone was still staring at him. Ianto fidgeted uncomfortably. He loathed being the center of attention in any sort of group setting; the main reason for his contributions to conversation being pretty much only little-known knowledge or sarcastic comments. "Did you even know what retcon was back then?"

Ianto shook his head. "Started working for Torchwood One just before I turned twenty-three."

"So you're honestly telling us that you just don't have two years of your memories?" Owen asked, making direct eye contact with Ianto, the other man's eyes boring directly into his own. Ianto swallowed.

"Nope, absolutely nothing," Ianto took another sip of his coffee. His friends remained staring at him. "What? I don't know!"

"And you never thought there was anything suspicious about that?" Jack turned to face him more directly. "That you couldn't recall a whole two years of…of your life…" He trailed off, eyes staring off into the distance vacantly, as if seeing something that wasn't there. Ianto was accustomed to this kind of behavior from Jack. Uncomfortably aware of Tosh, Gwen, and Owen's presence, he touched Jack's shoulder gently.

"Jack? You okay?"

Jack's eyes snapped back to Ianto's a second later, wide and, in a way, fearful. "I can't remember two years of my life, either."

Ianto looked at his lover, puzzled. He glanced over at the others, whose expressions reflected his own. "Well, you've lived a long time. It's to be expected that you can't remember everything."

"No, seriously," Jack said, fear creeping into his tone. "It was before I became immortal. Two years of my memory were erased – Completely gone."

"Well…" Ianto was momentarily stumped. "How can the instances be connected? You were born thousands of years after me. They're completely different sets of years."

"The thing is," Jack swallowed hard, and gripped Ianto's hand in his own, though not in a romantic way. His fingernails were digging into Ianto's skin and it felt as if Ianto was the only thing holding Jack to reality. "Is that I used to have the same scar, in the same place. And I don't know how it got there."