Captain Jack Harkness {Gray Thane, Mirrorverse} (
this_isgoodbye) wrote2023-04-17 10:18 am
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[THE TORCHWOOD FILES] Captain Jack Harkness
Victorian Era
...dragged back into the dark across broken glass, pulled forced no please--
With a ragged breath, Jack came to, staring up at two women who regarded him with--anger? Confusion? What had he done, who had he hurt?
Weight on his chest, hard to breathe, crushed under the bodies notagainnoplease...
"Why did you do that?"
Jack blinked, shaking his head to clear it. Pressure--no, not pressure. A hand on his chest, firm but not crushing. Too much, too soon, head spinning death, death--died. He died again.
...the women. That blowfish, he had a pistol leveled at the pair of them.
Why did you do that?
"He was--he was gonna kill you both." Jack rasped, shifting to sit up and wincing. Bullet wounds...eh, could be worse.
The blonde helped him until he was upright, watching him warily. "You didn't strike us as the...sympathetic type."
"I'm not." Jack replied, getting to his knees and ignoring the help the blonde woman tried to offer him. "I could give a rat's ass about you or anyone else in this era. I'm only here because my vortex manipulator got fried."
"Vortex manip--how--"
"Oh, don't play dumb, Torchwood." Jack replied flatly, narrowing his eyes. "I was a Time Agent, you think I don't know about your organization and all that 'phantasmagoria' garbage? Trust me, I've killed more of you than I can count, and probably a few I don't remember."
The blonde shared a look with her scowling brunette friend...girlfriend, maybe?...God, coming back from the dead fucking sucked...
"Perhaps, Mr. Harkness--"
"Captain."
"--Captain Harkness...perhaps we should talk."
"If you have a fresh shirt I can borrow, then fine. Uh...the blowfish--here, I got it..."
* * * * *
Everything was fuzzy around the edges. Not soft and hazy, but blurry and painful. He couldn't focus on anything, and he couldn't stop trying to focus. There was something important, something he'd forgotten, something...if he could just relax he could get it back, but he couldn't make himself stop...
"Captain Harkness? Can you hear me?"
...everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? Why couldn't he focus?
"Easy, pet--easy, we're not going to harm you. Come on, then, that's the way..."
Things got dark. When they brightened again, things were a little less blurry. Something cool touched his lips, his hands, his neck and his chest--he had a body. He could feel it again, and hells was he sore.
"--just have to nod if you can hear me. Can you do that?"
Shapes, gold and shadow. He managed to move his head.
"Excellent, just lie back now."
Something else came into focus--something he couldn't see, something that hurt. That little girl and her fucking cards...
"He's not coming."
"So you said, love. Rest now."
He shut his eyes, and he finally managed to let his mind go dark.
* * * * *
"How long?"
"...four days."
Jack stared at the photos, something cold and hollow and...alien sitting in his chest.
"And you really don't know which of these was me?" he asked, glancing up at the blonde he now knew was Emily Holroyd.
"No--we lost track of you after you left that tavern. I'm sorry, Jack."
He stared at the four photos--brutal murders, all of them. Two men, one woman, and an alien Jack had never seen before--no mouth. Interesting, how did such a species ingest nutritional compounds? How did they communicate?...
How did they scream as they died?
He picked up the photo of the woman--Mary Jane Kelly. He knew the name, now that he was coming down from the blackout. Murdered so brutally they thought the Ripper did it...
All because the Doctor wasn't coming. Not for a hundred bloody years...
"The last time I blacked out like that, they wiped my memory." he admitted, tossing the gruesome photo down. "The Agency, they...they covered it up and they wiped it out so I'd be okay to keep killing. Seven weeks, just...gone."
"Given the presence of the alien death, we can't turn you over to the authorities...but we can't let this stand." Emily pointed out.
"No--listen, don't worry about it." he sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "You--you didn't have to help me. You cleaned me up, you helped me...come down--I'll help you with the alien. Trust me, I'm good at covering my tracks."
"Well, then--if you're willing to render aid with the cover up, perhaps you could take it one step further. After all, you're going to need currency if you're to remain in Cardiff for the duration..."
* * * * *
New Year's Eve, 1999
"Jesus Christ!..."
Jack lowered his gun, a cold ball of ice in his gut as he stalked towards where Alex's corpse lay. His ears were buzzing, making Suzie's voice barely audible. The feeling in his head was familiar, the sense of drifting away as the rage began to simmer, to come to a rolling boil...
"...you hear me? Jack--Jack, can you hear me?"
Jack blinked, his vision blurry. He breathed through the scalding vapor of anger, forced his eyes to focus on Suzie in front of him.
"Jack, be truthful: did you do this?"
Jack focused on checking his Webley, holstering it. The motions helped keep him calm, cooled the fire in his blood. The ball of ice in his gut, however, only got larger, the buzzing got louder.
"Alex, yes. The others, no." he replied quietly. "Alex killed them. I killed Alex."
"Why did you do that?"
"He--he...he opened that fucking amulet, said it showed him the future, said...said they were mercy killings. He was gonna shoot himself, but the door alarm...and when he--when he saw you..."
He trailed off, looking down at Alex's body again. The neat little bullet hole he left in the middle of Alex's forehead was seeping onto the floor, that ball of ice was starting to hurt.
"...I think I feel bad for killing him." he realized aloud. The ice, the buzzing in his ears...was this guilt? Was this horror? He didn't like it, he didn't like it at-fucking-all.
"No one does."
Jack blinked, unaware he'd spoken aloud. Suzie was--oh. Hugging. Hugging was...good. Better than the ice and the noise. He wrapped his arms around her and held on tight, still staring at Alex's corpse over her shoulder.
"He said Torchwood was mine now." he murmured. "Guess that means you, too."
"You saved my life. I don't mind." Her voice sounded wet and thick. Maybe she was crying.
Things were getting blurry again.
"Suze?"
"Yes?"
"...let's deal with the bodies. Quick. Then--then I think you should put me in the vaults for a little while. Just in case."
Suzie drew back, her eyes and cheeks shining with tears. Definitely crying.
Beat the hell out of bleeding. Beat the hell out of decomposing.
...and just like that, the ice melted, and the world was quiet again.
Time to get to work.
...dragged back into the dark across broken glass, pulled forced no please--
With a ragged breath, Jack came to, staring up at two women who regarded him with--anger? Confusion? What had he done, who had he hurt?
Weight on his chest, hard to breathe, crushed under the bodies notagainnoplease...
"Why did you do that?"
Jack blinked, shaking his head to clear it. Pressure--no, not pressure. A hand on his chest, firm but not crushing. Too much, too soon, head spinning death, death--died. He died again.
...the women. That blowfish, he had a pistol leveled at the pair of them.
Why did you do that?
"He was--he was gonna kill you both." Jack rasped, shifting to sit up and wincing. Bullet wounds...eh, could be worse.
The blonde helped him until he was upright, watching him warily. "You didn't strike us as the...sympathetic type."
"I'm not." Jack replied, getting to his knees and ignoring the help the blonde woman tried to offer him. "I could give a rat's ass about you or anyone else in this era. I'm only here because my vortex manipulator got fried."
"Vortex manip--how--"
"Oh, don't play dumb, Torchwood." Jack replied flatly, narrowing his eyes. "I was a Time Agent, you think I don't know about your organization and all that 'phantasmagoria' garbage? Trust me, I've killed more of you than I can count, and probably a few I don't remember."
The blonde shared a look with her scowling brunette friend...girlfriend, maybe?...God, coming back from the dead fucking sucked...
"Perhaps, Mr. Harkness--"
"Captain."
"--Captain Harkness...perhaps we should talk."
"If you have a fresh shirt I can borrow, then fine. Uh...the blowfish--here, I got it..."
Everything was fuzzy around the edges. Not soft and hazy, but blurry and painful. He couldn't focus on anything, and he couldn't stop trying to focus. There was something important, something he'd forgotten, something...if he could just relax he could get it back, but he couldn't make himself stop...
"Captain Harkness? Can you hear me?"
...everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? Why couldn't he focus?
"Easy, pet--easy, we're not going to harm you. Come on, then, that's the way..."
Things got dark. When they brightened again, things were a little less blurry. Something cool touched his lips, his hands, his neck and his chest--he had a body. He could feel it again, and hells was he sore.
"--just have to nod if you can hear me. Can you do that?"
Shapes, gold and shadow. He managed to move his head.
"Excellent, just lie back now."
Something else came into focus--something he couldn't see, something that hurt. That little girl and her fucking cards...
"He's not coming."
"So you said, love. Rest now."
He shut his eyes, and he finally managed to let his mind go dark.
"How long?"
"...four days."
Jack stared at the photos, something cold and hollow and...alien sitting in his chest.
"And you really don't know which of these was me?" he asked, glancing up at the blonde he now knew was Emily Holroyd.
"No--we lost track of you after you left that tavern. I'm sorry, Jack."
He stared at the four photos--brutal murders, all of them. Two men, one woman, and an alien Jack had never seen before--no mouth. Interesting, how did such a species ingest nutritional compounds? How did they communicate?...
How did they scream as they died?
He picked up the photo of the woman--Mary Jane Kelly. He knew the name, now that he was coming down from the blackout. Murdered so brutally they thought the Ripper did it...
All because the Doctor wasn't coming. Not for a hundred bloody years...
"The last time I blacked out like that, they wiped my memory." he admitted, tossing the gruesome photo down. "The Agency, they...they covered it up and they wiped it out so I'd be okay to keep killing. Seven weeks, just...gone."
"Given the presence of the alien death, we can't turn you over to the authorities...but we can't let this stand." Emily pointed out.
"No--listen, don't worry about it." he sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "You--you didn't have to help me. You cleaned me up, you helped me...come down--I'll help you with the alien. Trust me, I'm good at covering my tracks."
"Well, then--if you're willing to render aid with the cover up, perhaps you could take it one step further. After all, you're going to need currency if you're to remain in Cardiff for the duration..."
New Year's Eve, 1999
"Jesus Christ!..."
Jack lowered his gun, a cold ball of ice in his gut as he stalked towards where Alex's corpse lay. His ears were buzzing, making Suzie's voice barely audible. The feeling in his head was familiar, the sense of drifting away as the rage began to simmer, to come to a rolling boil...
"...you hear me? Jack--Jack, can you hear me?"
Jack blinked, his vision blurry. He breathed through the scalding vapor of anger, forced his eyes to focus on Suzie in front of him.
"Jack, be truthful: did you do this?"
Jack focused on checking his Webley, holstering it. The motions helped keep him calm, cooled the fire in his blood. The ball of ice in his gut, however, only got larger, the buzzing got louder.
"Alex, yes. The others, no." he replied quietly. "Alex killed them. I killed Alex."
"Why did you do that?"
"He--he...he opened that fucking amulet, said it showed him the future, said...said they were mercy killings. He was gonna shoot himself, but the door alarm...and when he--when he saw you..."
He trailed off, looking down at Alex's body again. The neat little bullet hole he left in the middle of Alex's forehead was seeping onto the floor, that ball of ice was starting to hurt.
"...I think I feel bad for killing him." he realized aloud. The ice, the buzzing in his ears...was this guilt? Was this horror? He didn't like it, he didn't like it at-fucking-all.
"No one does."
Jack blinked, unaware he'd spoken aloud. Suzie was--oh. Hugging. Hugging was...good. Better than the ice and the noise. He wrapped his arms around her and held on tight, still staring at Alex's corpse over her shoulder.
"He said Torchwood was mine now." he murmured. "Guess that means you, too."
"You saved my life. I don't mind." Her voice sounded wet and thick. Maybe she was crying.
Things were getting blurry again.
"Suze?"
"Yes?"
"...let's deal with the bodies. Quick. Then--then I think you should put me in the vaults for a little while. Just in case."
Suzie drew back, her eyes and cheeks shining with tears. Definitely crying.
Beat the hell out of bleeding. Beat the hell out of decomposing.
...and just like that, the ice melted, and the world was quiet again.
Time to get to work.