Run Jack Run... & Find The Doctor
folder
S through Z › Torchwood
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,353
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Torchwood
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,353
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Torchwood. I have no rights too it, and I do not make money of anything I write.
Run Jack Run
Jack was trying to run away. He had to get away. He was clueless as to where he was going, but he could not face his actions. Everything that the he had done, was unforgivable. His friends, his co workers, his lover... all dead. It was all his fault.
His past was catching up with him again. In 1965, with Clem, when he drove all those kids to the 456... Not only had he put up with this nightmare once already, he had been requested to do it again; all for an antivirus for a new flu strain. At the time, it made sense too him. Those kids were all orphans, nobody wanted them anyways. But now... now he was realizing that he could have called upon the Doctor for help with that. He was sure now he could've. He was also realizing, nobody is ever truly un-wanted or not missed. Truth was, Jack had taken too long to do something about the whole scenario in the first place. Worse still, the plan they did have was pure stupidity. He helped kill all those people in the building, turned Clems brain to mush and watched Ianto die. He let the Pri-Minister lie about the kids being sent back to school for inoculations, letting parents have their children ripped from their homes; their arms, dragged away screaming. The cherry on top of his dark, sinful, dreadful sundae.... he sacrificed his own grandson. His own grandson to the 456. Liquified his internal organs in front of his own daughter, the own boys beloved mother. Watching them seep from his tiny pale corpse... as her hideous screams rang in his ears. That screaming would never leave his head. Never. The horrifying thought's finally shook strong, sturdy, Captain Jack to his knees. He hit the ground with enough force to wind himself. Bitter, foul bile raised from his cold churning stomach. It burned with a pure hatred up the back of throat, choking him, as he wretched heavily. Every muscle in his body repeating the action, helping to feed him the seething; black, self-hatred, low life taste. Gwen was right; sometimes even the Doctor must look at humanity's planet and turn away in shame. Jack's heart shattered into a thousand, sharp, stinging pieces at the thought. What would the Doctor think of him?.