More angsty Torchwood drabbles!
Still don't know quite why. So:
Jack, after the ridiculous Cottingley Fairies episode:
-
He wants to hurt them, he really does. He wants to lash back out, say you can't really believe I wanted that, you can't really believe it's my fault, you can't really believe there was a choice involved, can you? But they're still glaring at him, and it wouldn't help.
And maybe it shouldn't. Maybe he deserves it-- no, he's not going down that line of idiocy. But still-- there's something--
The sheer idealism of it. The sheer idealism involved in saying, just because there was a child screaming and struggling to join her new friends, and just because those friends could have wrecked the world if you'd defied them, that doesn't make it right. That doesn't mean you shouldn't have made a stand.
It's not right, but there's an idealism there, an innocence he couldn't bear to take away.
He glances in the mirror again, sees Gwen meet his eyes and pointedly look away.
There are some things worth making a stand for no matter what the cost, he thinks. Owen glares at him and Tosh is still staring out the window. It's that simple. Yeah... keep believing that.
Keep believing that.
-
Toshiko, sometime after S1.
-
"It's called Torchwood," she tells the woman she is decidedly not flirting with. "I can't really say what we do, though."
"Huh," says the brunette, with the faintest frown. "Not exactly auspicious."
"Hmm?"
"The name. 'Torchwood'. Though it's not like names are destiny." She plays with the umbrella in her drink.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Well, think about it. Torch-wood. What happens to torch wood? Doesn't it burn?"
She stares at the wall of alcohol bottles, eyes widening as scenes flash before her eyes. Jack, screaming as he faced that devil. Ianto, just before he threw that punch. Owen, with the look of almost fury he'd had when they dragged him out of that cage. Gwen, thinking, this can't last, him and I. God, this job, it's killing me--
She says, still staring at the wall, "Have you ever noticed how some things can be so blindingly obvious that it takes a total stranger to point them out?"
-
Owen, after the Fight Club ripoff episode.
-
"It's just nature," he says to the bartender. "Natural instincts-- we've got to suppress in 'modern society'. It's in us, you see. The animal."
The bartender gives him a measured look as he pulls down a mug of beer. Owen takes that, in his mood, as an invitation to continue. "The hunter. The taste for blood. It builds up in you, and you've got to let it out. That primal need to dominate-- to fight. Know what I mean?"
"No," says the bartender, flashing a quick smile at a blonde as he hands her a martini.
"So-- wait, what?"
"I said 'no'. Who sold you that line of bullshit? 'Cos I always wanted to own the London Bridge."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not sayin' I don't enjoy a bit of healthy, vicarious violence now and then, yeah? Play a lot of Halo on my off-hours. Used to play rugby, at school. But you're talking like you can fix what's wrong with you by beatin' someone up. Doesn't work, mate. You're still gonna be angry an' you're still gonna be pathetic-- you're just gonna be too tired to realize it. It's not nature. It's not 'natural male behaviour'. And it's not what's wrong with you. An' if you're stupid enough to keep thinkin' it is... Well, I just hope you only kill yourself.”
Owen stares as the bartender turns away, his hand unconsciously clenching into a fist.
-
Toshiko, AU-- probably AU of the S1 finale. (not exceptional with names, does it show? Was it "End of Days"?)
-
I don’t think anyone is ever going to find this, because I don’t think that anyone is going to be left after this-- and even if they are, the epicenter, this ravaged city, will be the last place they want to go. There’s nothing more I can do. All I can do is wait, and try to fill the time, and yet I don’t have nearly enough time to say all that I want to say. Love to my family, my friends-- that hardly has a point if they’re all dead. What I want to try to explain, even if there’s no one to explain it to, is why.
We didn’t mean to. Who would mean to? What could be gained from a devastated world? Not power, not love-- perhaps cessation of suffering, but surely there would be quicker ways to bring that about. Quicker, surely kinder. Stupid thing to say. Of course we didn’t mean to.
So why? Innocence, naivete. We didn’t know what would happen. Or is that a lie? He told us not to, said it was suicide, but they weren’t listening, by then-- they were desperate, not thinking clearly, not thinking. They thought it would solve all their problems-- thought they could turn back time. Get back all that they’d lost. Maybe I’m a fool for saying “they” when I was standing right there, silent.
We were tricked, we were decieved, we were not thinking. If there were even a chance that our actions would put the world at risk, that should have given us pause; we should have put that infinite possible damage at equal weight with the possible, enormous, but dubious gains. That was our responsibility as agents-- as human beings; because when the numbers are in the range of billions, the need of the many (the right of the many to live) really does outweigh the need of the one.
Somehow, we forgot. Somehow, despite the secrecy and the aliens and the impossible level of technology, we forgot that we were more than government wage-slaves. We forgot that we had higher responsibilities, dangerous powers, and kept wrapped in our cocoon of our own concerns-- and none of us realized the danger. For that, I could never apologise enough, so with forty-five seconds, I won’t even attempt it.
Somehow, we forgot, and even if others’ forgiveness could ever be offered for that, I could never forgive myself.
But now I do understand the terrible temptation to turn back time.
Sa
-
Jack, indeterminate time:
-
“Everything ends,” the Doctor used to say. Jack thought that was a trifle pessimistic, but that was before he developed his persistent inability to die.
Now, looking through the files at the man who’d lived a thousand years, in sembelance after sembelance, he thought he understood a little better. To watch all you loved fade away... Of course you’d grow leery of connections; of course you’d always have to keep the coming end in mind.
And no wonder he was so willing to hasten those ends when he had to. Because he’s pretty sure, now, that after a certain threshhold, after a certain number of losses and span of time, death becomes a thing of envy.
But at least he, allegedly, has a limited span; at least he has the assurance he’s mortal. No matter how many people and empires he outlives, he will, someday, die. Presumably, anyway.
And Jack simply doesn’t know. He might die tomorrow; he might die when time itself does. And that’s not something he wants.
But what can he do? Immortality is of terrible power. It would take something more powerful yet to defeat it...
-
More cross-posting soon. (For some reason I view ffn as a safe testing ground. Probably because I've been on it more than long enough to know what percentage of the fics there are crap.)
Jack, after the ridiculous Cottingley Fairies episode:
-
He wants to hurt them, he really does. He wants to lash back out, say you can't really believe I wanted that, you can't really believe it's my fault, you can't really believe there was a choice involved, can you? But they're still glaring at him, and it wouldn't help.
And maybe it shouldn't. Maybe he deserves it-- no, he's not going down that line of idiocy. But still-- there's something--
The sheer idealism of it. The sheer idealism involved in saying, just because there was a child screaming and struggling to join her new friends, and just because those friends could have wrecked the world if you'd defied them, that doesn't make it right. That doesn't mean you shouldn't have made a stand.
It's not right, but there's an idealism there, an innocence he couldn't bear to take away.
He glances in the mirror again, sees Gwen meet his eyes and pointedly look away.
There are some things worth making a stand for no matter what the cost, he thinks. Owen glares at him and Tosh is still staring out the window. It's that simple. Yeah... keep believing that.
Keep believing that.
-
Toshiko, sometime after S1.
-
"It's called Torchwood," she tells the woman she is decidedly not flirting with. "I can't really say what we do, though."
"Huh," says the brunette, with the faintest frown. "Not exactly auspicious."
"Hmm?"
"The name. 'Torchwood'. Though it's not like names are destiny." She plays with the umbrella in her drink.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Well, think about it. Torch-wood. What happens to torch wood? Doesn't it burn?"
She stares at the wall of alcohol bottles, eyes widening as scenes flash before her eyes. Jack, screaming as he faced that devil. Ianto, just before he threw that punch. Owen, with the look of almost fury he'd had when they dragged him out of that cage. Gwen, thinking, this can't last, him and I. God, this job, it's killing me--
She says, still staring at the wall, "Have you ever noticed how some things can be so blindingly obvious that it takes a total stranger to point them out?"
-
Owen, after the Fight Club ripoff episode.
-
"It's just nature," he says to the bartender. "Natural instincts-- we've got to suppress in 'modern society'. It's in us, you see. The animal."
The bartender gives him a measured look as he pulls down a mug of beer. Owen takes that, in his mood, as an invitation to continue. "The hunter. The taste for blood. It builds up in you, and you've got to let it out. That primal need to dominate-- to fight. Know what I mean?"
"No," says the bartender, flashing a quick smile at a blonde as he hands her a martini.
"So-- wait, what?"
"I said 'no'. Who sold you that line of bullshit? 'Cos I always wanted to own the London Bridge."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not sayin' I don't enjoy a bit of healthy, vicarious violence now and then, yeah? Play a lot of Halo on my off-hours. Used to play rugby, at school. But you're talking like you can fix what's wrong with you by beatin' someone up. Doesn't work, mate. You're still gonna be angry an' you're still gonna be pathetic-- you're just gonna be too tired to realize it. It's not nature. It's not 'natural male behaviour'. And it's not what's wrong with you. An' if you're stupid enough to keep thinkin' it is... Well, I just hope you only kill yourself.”
Owen stares as the bartender turns away, his hand unconsciously clenching into a fist.
-
Toshiko, AU-- probably AU of the S1 finale. (not exceptional with names, does it show? Was it "End of Days"?)
-
I don’t think anyone is ever going to find this, because I don’t think that anyone is going to be left after this-- and even if they are, the epicenter, this ravaged city, will be the last place they want to go. There’s nothing more I can do. All I can do is wait, and try to fill the time, and yet I don’t have nearly enough time to say all that I want to say. Love to my family, my friends-- that hardly has a point if they’re all dead. What I want to try to explain, even if there’s no one to explain it to, is why.
We didn’t mean to. Who would mean to? What could be gained from a devastated world? Not power, not love-- perhaps cessation of suffering, but surely there would be quicker ways to bring that about. Quicker, surely kinder. Stupid thing to say. Of course we didn’t mean to.
So why? Innocence, naivete. We didn’t know what would happen. Or is that a lie? He told us not to, said it was suicide, but they weren’t listening, by then-- they were desperate, not thinking clearly, not thinking. They thought it would solve all their problems-- thought they could turn back time. Get back all that they’d lost. Maybe I’m a fool for saying “they” when I was standing right there, silent.
We were tricked, we were decieved, we were not thinking. If there were even a chance that our actions would put the world at risk, that should have given us pause; we should have put that infinite possible damage at equal weight with the possible, enormous, but dubious gains. That was our responsibility as agents-- as human beings; because when the numbers are in the range of billions, the need of the many (the right of the many to live) really does outweigh the need of the one.
Somehow, we forgot. Somehow, despite the secrecy and the aliens and the impossible level of technology, we forgot that we were more than government wage-slaves. We forgot that we had higher responsibilities, dangerous powers, and kept wrapped in our cocoon of our own concerns-- and none of us realized the danger. For that, I could never apologise enough, so with forty-five seconds, I won’t even attempt it.
Somehow, we forgot, and even if others’ forgiveness could ever be offered for that, I could never forgive myself.
But now I do understand the terrible temptation to turn back time.
Sa
-
Jack, indeterminate time:
-
“Everything ends,” the Doctor used to say. Jack thought that was a trifle pessimistic, but that was before he developed his persistent inability to die.
Now, looking through the files at the man who’d lived a thousand years, in sembelance after sembelance, he thought he understood a little better. To watch all you loved fade away... Of course you’d grow leery of connections; of course you’d always have to keep the coming end in mind.
And no wonder he was so willing to hasten those ends when he had to. Because he’s pretty sure, now, that after a certain threshhold, after a certain number of losses and span of time, death becomes a thing of envy.
But at least he, allegedly, has a limited span; at least he has the assurance he’s mortal. No matter how many people and empires he outlives, he will, someday, die. Presumably, anyway.
And Jack simply doesn’t know. He might die tomorrow; he might die when time itself does. And that’s not something he wants.
But what can he do? Immortality is of terrible power. It would take something more powerful yet to defeat it...
-
More cross-posting soon. (For some reason I view ffn as a safe testing ground. Probably because I've been on it more than long enough to know what percentage of the fics there are crap.)