Even for Torchwood, this was weird. The four of us had woken up seated around the big table in the what Jack liked to call the boardroom, probably because anytime he was in it he was usually bored stiff. None of us could remember how or why we came to be there.
“What happened?” Tosh asked, looking around in confusion.
“Haven’t a clue. How much did I drink last night?” Owen rubbed at his eyes; they probably felt as gritty as mine did. I knew that feeling.
“I don’t think this is the morning after the night before, Owen. What’s the last thing any of you remember?”
“Me and Rhys were in Paris; I don’t even remember the flight home.” Gwen looked baffled.
“I went out on the lash,” Owen added with a shrug.
Nothing strange there then.
“I came to work early, I wanted to work on my time-lock project before everyone else got in.”
“Last thing I remember is making coffee for myself and Jack last night, then nothing. It feels like we’ve been Retconned.”
“Who’d do that to us?” asked Gwen. “Who even knows about Retcon besides us?”
“Probably Jack, since he’s not here. We need to figure out what happened.”
Jack, when we found him, didn’t remember either. To make matters worse, the CCTV had been wiped, and we’d all lost two days. Safe to say that was no accident.
“Two days we can’t account for. Anything could have happened,” Tosh said, sounding worried.
We looked around at each other, and I could tell we all felt it; we knew something awful had happened to us, we just didn’t know what. Perhaps that was for the best.
“If we’d wanted to remember, we wouldn’t have taken Retcon. Some things are best forgotten.”
Surprisingly, everyone agreed.