Disclaimer: How I wish I owned them! Anyway, I don't; they're the property of the BBC.


(Not) the end of the world – as we knew it

Jack

He lets Agent Johnson clear up. He lets other people coax his daughter away from the body of his grandson so they can clean his face, zip him into a bag. He lets the government stick a bandage on Dekker's injury and lead him away.

All Jack Harkness feels able to do is to sit, hollow, alone. He's turned off his phone. Gwen will be trying to call, but he can't talk to her. Can't talk to anyone, and nobody here wants to talk to him. Why should they?

He's saved the world, but there is no comfort in it.

Gwen

Jack isn't at the funeral. She keeps looking round, expecting to see him there, but as the crowd leaves the graveside there's still no sign of him.

Rhys takes her hand. "All right?"

"Yeah."

"He was a good lad," Rhys says.

Gwen looks across to the cars, where Johnny is hugging Rhiannon close. "God, Rhys, what do I do now?"

"You do what you want to do," Rhys says. "You're the strongest person I know, sweetheart."

She squeezes his hand in response, but she does not feel strong. She feels drained, and she can't see where to go from here.

Alice

All she can do is watch, pressed against the dirty glass while her father hits a button and Steven convulses. Nobody does anything. Nobody dares stop the immortal, the invincible Captain Jack Harkness from committing murder.

She's tried. She's tried so hard to love this man who flits in and out of her life, this man whose very existence drove her mother into hiding. Sometimes she's come close.

As the screaming stops, and the door opens, he stands motionless. He doesn't move, doesn't speak. Alice, holding Steven's limp body tight, feels the last drops of love drain out of her.

Johnson

It's been a long time since Johnson has cried. She's seen enough horror – God knows, she's committed enough horror – that she thought herself immune. But he was just a kid, just a kid who had been playing football with the squad less than an hour before.

She doesn't let them see her wet eyes; wipes them dry and snaps on the mask again. Dekker needs medical treatment. The equipment needs packing up. The body has to be removed, a report sent through to the Home Office.

Much later, she closes the door of her room, and, alone, the tears fall.

Rhys

After dropping Gwen off at the police station – she's got a meeting about renting some space from them – Rhys goes on to the Bay. The crater's still cordoned off, but the diggers have been hard at work and much of the rubble is clear. Gazing down into the hole, Rhys fancies he can see some of the tiling, bits of metalwork, fragments of computers.

It's all too easy, these days, to imagine Gwen running from the blast. Rhys wishes he could persuade her back into a safer line of work; but he knows her better. Knows her path is set.

Lois

They let her out with apologies, and Bridget Spears is there waiting for her.

"Did it work?" Lois asks, and the other woman hands her the contact lens case.

"It worked."

Lois wraps her arms around herself. "What happens now?"

"That's not our problem," says Bridget. She holds out her hand. "Goodbye, Lois."

She watches Bridget walk away, and turns in the other direction. The world has returned to normal, but she's looking at it through fresh eyes.

Outside the Palace of Westminster she turns on her phone, and dials.

"Gwen? It's Lois. I think I need a new job."

Bridget

She hands in her resignation, and spends a full day clearing both her office and John Frobisher's. There's not that much that's worth keeping – a few photos and framed certificates in his office go to his sister; a vase, some pens, and another picture or two go in her own box. She returns the rest to the office manager.

When she's done, she takes one last look around. It wasn't much of an office in any case, but she'd enjoyed being there. She'd enjoyed the job, until the end; until all that remained were the memories of a good man.

Andy

Going into fight for the children was pretty much a no-brainer, at the time, but Andy finds himself regretting it later. Not the going into fight for itself, of course – but more the consequences. For starters there's the cut lip and the black eye, and bruises in places he hadn't known existed. But there is also the issue of the disciplinary case for abandoning his post (and uniform, and radio).

He squares his shoulders, wincing at the sudden pain, and straightens his tie. It was the right thing to do, and in the end, that's all that really matters.

Rhiannon

Once the kids are in bed, asleep at last despite the excitement of the day, Rhiannon pulls a photo album from the shelf and sinks on to the sofa. Opening the album, she leafs through memories – summer holidays camping in Pembrokeshire, school photos, family parties. Her and Ianto, covered in sand and facepaint.

She'd attacked Gwen for not knowing her brother, but Rhiannon knows it was unfair. Since Ianto had gone to London he'd fallen away – lost to his job that he would never talk about.

Rhiannon closes the album. It's too late now to fill in those lost gaps.

Green

The days when British prime ministers lost general elections before being ousted seem to be over. Brian Green, his face lined with exhaustion, closes the door of what is – still – his private office. He has no doubt that Denise will make good on her promises. He has days, maybe hours, to do what damage control he can.

There's a knock, and Green moves away from the door to accept a report from an anonymous, apologetic advisor. He glances down at it, and feels sicker; Frobisher too.

Sitting at his desk, Green pulls paper to him, and begins drafting his resignation.

Dekker

Dekker doesn't particularly like Jack Harkness, but he's got to admit that the man has guts. Guts, but no choice – the constructive wave is the only way to get rid of the 456, it has to happen soon, and there's only one kid anywhere nearby. It's tough, but that's the way it is.

As the boy screams, and Harkness stands frozen and watches, Dekker wonders what's next. This'll destroy the invasion force, but not the species; chances are in another forty years the 456 will be back.

Dekker turns away. It's not his problem. Someone else can monitor the airwaves.