For [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic: Nov 2006 - Pain Quote, and Temptation

Nov. 15th, 2006 12:51 am
innuendocaptain: (Torchwood)
[personal profile] innuendocaptain
Title / Prompt: We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey. --Kenji Miyazawa & Temptation
Character: Jack Harkness
Warnings: oh the angst! This is in the 'Somewhere' universe, set in Torchwood era, before the beginning of the show. Spoilers for Torchwood 1x01.
Pairings: references to Ninth Doctor/Jack, hints of Jack/Ianto
Your character's fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Word count: 721 per MS Word
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the situation. If I did, he'd have come in much earlier...
Crossposted to [livejournal.com profile] licenseartistic



He lies in bed in his chamber, staring up at the ceiling and the open hatch. Ianto's been there late each night this week, and he's had to order the man to go back home and get some rest. As much as it would be nice to have a little physical relief and he can't help thinking about those lovely large hands stroking him, thoughts of Ianto's hands always lead to thoughts of another hand, and it all comes crashing down around his head again.

It's still alive -- he knows it is. It was still twitching when he first put it in the jar, and the nutrient solution that bubbles around it keeps it from drying out or decaying. Although he isn't even sure if it would, he doesn't want to find out the hard way. And it obviously didn't retain enough of its owner's regenerative energy, because it doesn't show any sign of sprouting a new Doctor any time soon. But it and the TARDIS key -- and an intricate scar on his thigh marking him as the Doctor's and warning anyone else off -- are all he has left.

It's nights like this that make him think maybe he should have let Ianto stay. It's going to get messy and he thinks that perhaps he should have kept someone else around to talk to. Except what on earth could he tell the man that won't get him carted off in a nice little cage of his own and tested and poked and probed until doomsday?

Jack Harkness is a hazard to himself and to anyone he gets involved with, so he's stopped getting involved and kept himself apart from them all. But that isn't healthy either, and he's more than aware that he's broken. Cracked, shattered, glued back together and missing more and more shards every time. He wonders if there's a point where there actually won't be enough left, and it'll actually take -- if there's a point where if he does it enough times he'll actually stay dead. Is his excess of alive a finite amount? Or does it just keep on going forever and ever, eternally separated from the one being he loved and died for.

It's nights like this that are the worst, though, because instead of wanting to head to the target range and blow his brains out (quick but messy, and surprisingly fast to recover from), slit his throat with a straight razor (shockingly messy, blood spraying all over the walls and he doesn't really think Ianto's going to buy 'late night Weevil attack' too often), or drink himself to death (far too expensive with his taste in liquor), his thoughts turn in another direction.

This one's far more dangerous, because it's so tempting. He could fix it. He knows how -- he even knows when. He's made all of the calculations, knows where and when to get the Doctor alone. He could warn him about the Daleks, tell him what happens and how it goes so wrong; warn him about the long game and their plans to destroy the human race by converting them all (and why do all the evil metal beings have this thing about conversion, anyway? He's wondered that from time to time...). He and the Doctor could hunt down the Emperor of the Daleks and kill him; exterminate the bastard before he ever gets his delusions of godhood, and put an end to the entire thing before it ever starts.

It would be so easy. And then he could be with the Doctor -- his Doctor -- for eternity. Ignoring the fact that if he goes back and stops it before it ever happens, then he doesn't die and come back and therefore doesn't become the Doctor's perfect companion...

He doesn't realize at first that the choked sound echoing in his chamber is coming from him, that the ache in his chest is from convulsive sobbing. He wants to sleep -- he really needs to sleep. So he wipes his face on the sheets and lurches from his bed, grabs a bottle of pills and a pretty blue bottle of Ty Nant, gulps them both down and lies down again. At least this time it won't be messy, and he'll get a little sleep before he goes...


Not quite spoilery author's note: OMG it's freaking Garibaldi and Sinclair all over again -- no wonder I love this... Now all Jack needs is a visit from sinister aliens offering him his heart's desire...
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Jack Harkness

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