Letters from a plane crash (wish you were here). [attn. Gwen, anyone] Bad spelling.

Gwen put her arm round John's waiste and made her way up the stairs, shouting to the woman that her husband was just a bit under the weather.

"I didn't know you were from the USA, Mrs Cooper.. your accent is very sex may I say, darling.."

"I said be quiet, now come on, you can't be that drunk, what about all that stuff about being from the 51st centuary and having stronger stomach's or whatever it was you were going on about last time."

They finally reached the top of the stairs and found them infront of the room. Gwen inserted the key and opened the door to a shabbily furnished apartment.

He wrinkled his nose at the smell. He'd been in better smelling toilets.

"I said be quiet, now come on, you can't be that drunk, what about all that stuff about being from the 51st century and having stronger stomach's or whatever it was you were going on about last time."

"I'm sorry.." He blinked his big blues at her stepping in through the door and slouching against the wall, uninterested in the room.
"I"m not drunk.." he slurred a little, balance wavering a little as he seemed to be half doubled over, as if considering trying to throw up again. "I've been drinking.. lots... 5 days.. maybe 4, or 6." He stood, and shrugged his jacket off, fingering the hem of the white shirt as if considering taking the grimy thing off for a while,,,

Gwen left him slouched agait the wall and wandered into the bathroom to rinse out a glass so he could drink some more water.

"I'm sorry. I"m not drunk.. "I've been drinking.. lots... 5 days.. maybe 4, or 6."

She methodically dried the outside of the glass and filled it with some wayer for him. She crouched down by him and held out the glass for him.

"Don't be sorry, you're just having a rough time is all. Drink this."

He frowned at her, taking the glass with a shaky smile, gulping water down, then finding it was water, his face screwed up in disgust.

"Don't be sorry, you're just having a rough time is all. Drink this."

"Ever the caring souul." He sang the last bit weirdly before continuing on speaking normally. "Rough life." He stood shakily, pushing off wall with his butt, water sloshing from the glass as he walked over to the bed and slumped down on it. "But you don't exactly have it easy.. and this century is delightfully naive and, interesting.." He gave her a slightly drunken smile. "Haven't you ever wondered what it'd be like sometime, someplace else? Gwen Cooper? " He laughed a little.

"Ever the caring souul Rough life. But you don't exactly have it easy.. and this century is delightfully naive and, interesting.. Haven't you ever wondered what it'd be like sometime, someplace else? Gwen Cooper? "

Gwen stood as well and sat in the chair at the bottom of the bed and stared at John while contemplatng his question.
"I suppose yes, sometimes it would be nice to be somewhere else. But I have responsibilities here, to Torchwood and Jack, and to Rhys."
She shut her eyes and rested her mind just a second.
"Why do you keep coming back here?"

"I suppose yes, sometimes it would be nice to be somewhere else. But I have responsibilities here, to Torchwood and Jack, and to Rhys."

"Beauty of time travel.." He said absent mindedly. He stayed oddly silent for a while after her next question.

"Why do you keep coming back here?"

He considered her face for a moment before looking at his hands, distractedly playing with his wrist strap's cover.

"I have my reasons.. lots of varied and equally important reasons.." He said quietly, he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut as he thought about things he didn't want to think about, before stumbling on his way to the fridge and grabbing a can of cider. It may be run down, but it was well stocked at least, this hotel.

"I have my reasons.. lots of varied and equally important reasons.."

Gwen considered getting him another glass of water, but she knew he wouldn't take it.

"Are your reasons, well reason, is it Jack? Do you keep coming back hoping that maybe he can forgive you? Or at least want to be friends?"

"Are your reasons, well reason, is it Jack? Do you keep coming back hoping that maybe he can forgive you? Or at least want to be friends?"

"Surprisingly not. There is more to my pointless existence then Jack you know." He spat at her aggressively. "I'd like him to forgive me, but he won't, I know and except that." He sighed, rubbing his head, trying to work out where this conversation went wrong.

He took a long sip of cider and offered the can to her.

Gwen declined to take the can from John, knowing him well enough to not trust him.
She looked at him with a barely veiled disgust, and despite the minor sympathy she really didn't know why she was here.

"Right well, if you don't want to talk about it, fair enough. Maybe you should get some sleep."

He shrugged at her taking another sip.

"There's nothing about Jack to talk about and well you won't understand my reasons..." He looked sadly away from her. Everyone always pulled that face once they knew him, he didn't really understand why, he was happy after all.