Fic: Just Give Me Peace
Jan. 27th, 2008 04:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Just Give Me Peace
Author:
aibhinn
Characters: Jack Harkness
Word count: 336
Rating: G
Spoilers: If you've seen past episode 1x02 of Torchwood, you're golden.
Summary: What Jack envies beyond all things….
Disclaimer: Not mine. Everything belongs to Auntie Beeb. I'm stuck here on the far side of the wrong continent, playing in her sandbox.
Author's note: Written for round 1.07 of
writerinadrawer. Prompt: The Seven Deadly Sins. (I chose Envy.) Mandatory additional feature: a piece of fruit.
Jack zipped the white body bag closed over Suzie's body. He'd done this so many times over the decades—put people he knew, people he'd been responsible for, people he'd cared for into these drawers. It was a job he knew all too well.
What he didn't know—hadn't known for far too long—was the peace he saw in Suzie's face.
Earlier tonight, up on the Plass with a loaded gun, she'd gone from terror and madness to the sudden, utter tranquillity of death with a twitch of a finger. With that one almost negligent motion she was no longer obsessed by the Resurrection Gauntlet, no longer overwhelmed by her job—no longer "Owen's ex" or "that weird girl" or, God help her, "the woman who murdered all those people." She was still, and pale, and at peace.
Jack envied her that.
Even if all the religions were totally wrong, even if all that was left after death was darkness and nothingness, at least it would be over. The pain, the struggle, the loneliness. The betrayal. All wiped away by a single bullet.
But not for him. Never for him.
His stomach churned, probably because he'd eaten nothing but an apple all day. But he wasn't hungry. He still had work to do.
He needed to get hold of Gwen Cooper. There was an empty desk at Torchwood now, and if anyone was the one to fill it, it would be her. Anyone who had the resources and the determination to track them down, brazen her way into the Hub on the strength of pure guts and a pair of pizzas, be Retconned, and still work her way back from the memory loss by sheer will alone, was worth having on his team.
And someday, he'd zip a body bag over her peaceful face, close the drawer, turn around, and walk back to his desk. Because that was what he did. This morgue was populated because of him.
And how he envied every corpse there.
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Characters: Jack Harkness
Word count: 336
Rating: G
Spoilers: If you've seen past episode 1x02 of Torchwood, you're golden.
Summary: What Jack envies beyond all things….
Disclaimer: Not mine. Everything belongs to Auntie Beeb. I'm stuck here on the far side of the wrong continent, playing in her sandbox.
Author's note: Written for round 1.07 of
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
Jack zipped the white body bag closed over Suzie's body. He'd done this so many times over the decades—put people he knew, people he'd been responsible for, people he'd cared for into these drawers. It was a job he knew all too well.
What he didn't know—hadn't known for far too long—was the peace he saw in Suzie's face.
Earlier tonight, up on the Plass with a loaded gun, she'd gone from terror and madness to the sudden, utter tranquillity of death with a twitch of a finger. With that one almost negligent motion she was no longer obsessed by the Resurrection Gauntlet, no longer overwhelmed by her job—no longer "Owen's ex" or "that weird girl" or, God help her, "the woman who murdered all those people." She was still, and pale, and at peace.
Jack envied her that.
Even if all the religions were totally wrong, even if all that was left after death was darkness and nothingness, at least it would be over. The pain, the struggle, the loneliness. The betrayal. All wiped away by a single bullet.
But not for him. Never for him.
His stomach churned, probably because he'd eaten nothing but an apple all day. But he wasn't hungry. He still had work to do.
He needed to get hold of Gwen Cooper. There was an empty desk at Torchwood now, and if anyone was the one to fill it, it would be her. Anyone who had the resources and the determination to track them down, brazen her way into the Hub on the strength of pure guts and a pair of pizzas, be Retconned, and still work her way back from the memory loss by sheer will alone, was worth having on his team.
And someday, he'd zip a body bag over her peaceful face, close the drawer, turn around, and walk back to his desk. Because that was what he did. This morgue was populated because of him.
And how he envied every corpse there.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 12:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 01:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 02:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 03:12 am (UTC)That's just... wow.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 03:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 07:12 am (UTC)Well done, as usual. I always love your fics.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 08:52 am (UTC)Wow ...
Date: 2008-01-28 09:39 am (UTC)Depressing, but in a good way.
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Date: 2008-01-28 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-30 03:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-02-07 12:48 am (UTC)