The Haunting of Woman Wept
Title: The Haunting of Woman Wept
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Coda Part 2, Children of Earth
Disclaimers: I should own Torchwood and its characters. I'd do a damn sight better job of caring for them than those pillocks.
Notes: A sequel, of sorts, to When Even the Ashes Have Faded Away. Warning: a Thrace warning is in effect.
Woman Wept had been a beautiful planet. The single landmass suggested the image of a grieving woman, hence its name. Even in the long memory of the Time Lords, there was no record of the disaster which froze Woman Wept in an instant. Millennia later, her great ocean remains a solid block of ice with waves hundreds of feet high trapped in time, never to reach the shores. The terrible beauty of a world trapped forever in ice has drawn visitors from throughout the galaxy. No one knows if there had been life on Woman Wept; but if there had been, it too was trapped for eternity in a frozen moment.
The breezes, chilled by the ice, had over the eons reshaped some of the waves into caves and when the winds blew strong, a person could hear the sorrowful song of the planet. Mourning its own losses, howling out its pain. This unique haunted beauty drew the broken and lost of the universe, who added their own songs of loss to the melody of Woman Wept. Great temples were built to allow mourners spaces to express their personal bereavement according to their own customs. These temples did not touch the surface of Woman Wept out of respect, as the planet itself was considered a monument to loss. In any chamber of the temple one may find a being following any sort of mourning ritual, from the ancient practices of Earth to the festivals of Corpos Delta. A specially built hall was always available for the stately practices of the Traken Union and right next to it was the large mud bath required in the rituals of the Adipose. The attendants of the temples were always respectful of mourners and watched on as beings would complete their rituals before returning to space, leaving their sorrowful songs on the winds.
Except for the being known only as the Caillte. The being was humanoid, or at least bipedal and wandered the frozen oceans alone wrapped in dark rags. Its shaggy hair was matted and tattered as the clothes it wore trekking forever alone amongst the waves. The attendants feared the Caillte because it had been on Woman Wept long before the first temple platform had been constructed, but records were quite clear, the Caillte was and had always been the same- the ghost that haunted Woman Wept.
Many would hide safely in their chambers when the inhuman cry of the Caillte joined the sorrowful winds because even if the words were unknown to them, the sentiment was desperately clear. The Caillte mourned its losses, and continued to do so in the ancient tongues of Earth that none but the most esoteric archeologist could decipher. Some believed the Caillte shouted the names of lost loved ones, while some thought it merely gave voice to its grieving.
The temple attendants would regularly move the floating temples if the Caillte appeared because soon after its arrival, carvings would appear on the frozen waves. Long lists of what were believed names in ancient Arabic letters would flash on the icy surfaces with numbers following them. The ritual was well known to all that came to mourn, these cenotaphs to the fallen could be found on every world where loss was felt. But the Caillte carved these names over and over wherever it appeared. Thousands of such lists littered the waves of Woman Wept, and if the winds wiped the surfaces clean, then the Caillte carved them anew.
New arrivals were common to the temples. Whether by transmat or ship, small drop pod or even flashes of light; people always came to Woman Wept and her temples to grieve. So little notice was paid to the small blue box that materialized in one of the walkways of temple four. With so many species in ritual mourning dress, few mentioned the lanky man with wild hair and a rumpled brown suit or how he bounced on the balls of his feet and looked around rather excitedly. He stepped back to allow a procession of trees from the Forest of Cheem as they carried small saplings in their hands. Obviously an important tree had died if so many cuttings had been taken. The procession disappeared into the domed gardens when the songs came upon the winds.
"The cries will stop shortly. The Caillte rarely carries on for more than an hour." A temple attendant appeared next to the newcomer. In a quiet voice, the attendant asked, "How can I assist you in your grieving process, Sir?"
"Doctor. Just Doctor, thanks." The Doctor smiled broadly to the attendant. "Actually, this Caillte fellow. Any chance I might see him? Does he keep office hours or something?"
The temple attendant stepped back, "Excuse me, but the Caillte is out there- in the wilds." He pointed towards the frozen waves that towered over them. "The Caillte haunts the wastes of Woman Wept and its mourning has carried on since before the temples were built. We do not approach it, even though it tracks down all of the temples and leaves those markings." The attendant pointed to a wave covered in simple English.
"Right, so I guess I'll just need to go see him, then." The Doctor marched off towards a spiraling staircase that lead down to the frozen ocean.
The Doctor slipped his glasses on as he passed amongst the waves. Some were covered in carefully scripted words, names with birth dates and deaths, so many names. Others were covered with a single name, over and over. The Doctor turned from the wall in front of him as the name there was now carrying on the wind like a soul shattering cry. The Doctor quickly began running, following the misery to a cave in the ice. He stopped and looked up and saw him there. A pile of rags sat in the cave mouth with its head thrown back crying out. The Doctor could feel tears forming in his eyes, not just from the cold winds, and he looked up at the raw loss, "Oh, Jack."
The crying stopped.
The Doctor approached the shell of Jack Harkness slowly as if he was a wild animal that might spook; or a ghost that may well vanish. What he saw before him hardly resembled the handsome rogue he'd known; the figure was gaunt, hardly more than skin stretched over a skeleton. It was as if Jack had mummified himself in the frozen wastelands as punishment. "Jack?"
The blue eyes were unfocused, but otherwise unchanged. "There's no one here by that name." His voice was scratchy and lifeless, "Jack Harkness lost too much, and people died because of him. His name should be forgotten in time. Only the souls he failed should be remembered on the winds." He moved like a wraith, crawling deeper into the cave. The Doctor couldn't believe what he saw, but carefully followed into the cold darkness. After a few moments he reached the deepest part of the cave and a soft glow made it possible to see around him like Earth on a moonlight night. The icy surface glowed because of small creatures trapped in the ice- their bioluminescence continuing even after an eternity. The Doctor looked carefully at the icy surface and noted that every inch of the tunnel walls were covered in finely carved words. Odd passages that read like a personal journal, but obviously not written by Jack as some of the comments were obviously about him. After a few moments it became clear who the author had been. The Doctor was running a finger along one such passage when the rattling voice behind him spoke, "He never did figure out how I tricked the measuring tape."
The Doctor spun around and looked carefully at the blank visage, "You need to let it go Jack, you can't mourn forever."
Hoarse laughter echoed around the icy cavern, "Oh, but I can. You forget- I'm wrong, remember? A fixed point. I can mourn until all the stars burn out and the Universe goes cold, just like this world."
The Doctor sighed, "You could; but Jack, would they want you to? I've lost too Jack, I caused the death of my entire world..."
"And you ran," Jack hissed, "you ran and you kept running. That's what you do isn't it? You try to outrun all of your loses." Jack turned and slowly moved to the furthest wall of the cave, "I'm tired of losing and so I'm not losing anything or anyone again." He placed a small metal tool against the ice and began scraping carefully, "I carve his words into the caves because they were private. No one enters the caves except me, so they are still private and they'll be here forever. Even after the universe is nothing more than darkness and ice, his words will still be there- only the ice." He turned and stared blankly at the Time Lord, "Leave me alone."
The Doctor sat down next to Jack and watched him carving the words that were obviously memorized, "I run because if I stop, I'll be just as lost as you. If I let it catch me then who'll be left, Jack?" The Doctor placed a hand on Jack's shoulder and felt the twitch and underneath that, raw bone, "The universe needs you Jack- you may be an impossible thing, but you are needed."
"I won't watch people die for me." The voice hardly carried.
"Then don't. Leave Jack Harkness here with the words. Be someone else, be someone better."
He looked at the Doctor and frowned, "I won't go back to Earth."
The Doctor smiled, "Of course not. I was thinking something exotic, the Silver Devastation perhaps?" He stood up and offered a hand, which was taken with some trepidation.
Jack looked at the Doctor, then pulled two small crystal vials from his tattered coat, "I need to go to Earth for a day though. Just," he stuttered and searched for the right word.
The Doctor clasped a hand over Jack's, "To say goodbye."
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Coda Part 2, Children of Earth
Disclaimers: I should own Torchwood and its characters. I'd do a damn sight better job of caring for them than those pillocks.
Notes: A sequel, of sorts, to When Even the Ashes Have Faded Away. Warning: a Thrace warning is in effect.
Woman Wept had been a beautiful planet. The single landmass suggested the image of a grieving woman, hence its name. Even in the long memory of the Time Lords, there was no record of the disaster which froze Woman Wept in an instant. Millennia later, her great ocean remains a solid block of ice with waves hundreds of feet high trapped in time, never to reach the shores. The terrible beauty of a world trapped forever in ice has drawn visitors from throughout the galaxy. No one knows if there had been life on Woman Wept; but if there had been, it too was trapped for eternity in a frozen moment.
The breezes, chilled by the ice, had over the eons reshaped some of the waves into caves and when the winds blew strong, a person could hear the sorrowful song of the planet. Mourning its own losses, howling out its pain. This unique haunted beauty drew the broken and lost of the universe, who added their own songs of loss to the melody of Woman Wept. Great temples were built to allow mourners spaces to express their personal bereavement according to their own customs. These temples did not touch the surface of Woman Wept out of respect, as the planet itself was considered a monument to loss. In any chamber of the temple one may find a being following any sort of mourning ritual, from the ancient practices of Earth to the festivals of Corpos Delta. A specially built hall was always available for the stately practices of the Traken Union and right next to it was the large mud bath required in the rituals of the Adipose. The attendants of the temples were always respectful of mourners and watched on as beings would complete their rituals before returning to space, leaving their sorrowful songs on the winds.
Except for the being known only as the Caillte. The being was humanoid, or at least bipedal and wandered the frozen oceans alone wrapped in dark rags. Its shaggy hair was matted and tattered as the clothes it wore trekking forever alone amongst the waves. The attendants feared the Caillte because it had been on Woman Wept long before the first temple platform had been constructed, but records were quite clear, the Caillte was and had always been the same- the ghost that haunted Woman Wept.
Many would hide safely in their chambers when the inhuman cry of the Caillte joined the sorrowful winds because even if the words were unknown to them, the sentiment was desperately clear. The Caillte mourned its losses, and continued to do so in the ancient tongues of Earth that none but the most esoteric archeologist could decipher. Some believed the Caillte shouted the names of lost loved ones, while some thought it merely gave voice to its grieving.
The temple attendants would regularly move the floating temples if the Caillte appeared because soon after its arrival, carvings would appear on the frozen waves. Long lists of what were believed names in ancient Arabic letters would flash on the icy surfaces with numbers following them. The ritual was well known to all that came to mourn, these cenotaphs to the fallen could be found on every world where loss was felt. But the Caillte carved these names over and over wherever it appeared. Thousands of such lists littered the waves of Woman Wept, and if the winds wiped the surfaces clean, then the Caillte carved them anew.
New arrivals were common to the temples. Whether by transmat or ship, small drop pod or even flashes of light; people always came to Woman Wept and her temples to grieve. So little notice was paid to the small blue box that materialized in one of the walkways of temple four. With so many species in ritual mourning dress, few mentioned the lanky man with wild hair and a rumpled brown suit or how he bounced on the balls of his feet and looked around rather excitedly. He stepped back to allow a procession of trees from the Forest of Cheem as they carried small saplings in their hands. Obviously an important tree had died if so many cuttings had been taken. The procession disappeared into the domed gardens when the songs came upon the winds.
"The cries will stop shortly. The Caillte rarely carries on for more than an hour." A temple attendant appeared next to the newcomer. In a quiet voice, the attendant asked, "How can I assist you in your grieving process, Sir?"
"Doctor. Just Doctor, thanks." The Doctor smiled broadly to the attendant. "Actually, this Caillte fellow. Any chance I might see him? Does he keep office hours or something?"
The temple attendant stepped back, "Excuse me, but the Caillte is out there- in the wilds." He pointed towards the frozen waves that towered over them. "The Caillte haunts the wastes of Woman Wept and its mourning has carried on since before the temples were built. We do not approach it, even though it tracks down all of the temples and leaves those markings." The attendant pointed to a wave covered in simple English.
"Right, so I guess I'll just need to go see him, then." The Doctor marched off towards a spiraling staircase that lead down to the frozen ocean.
The Doctor slipped his glasses on as he passed amongst the waves. Some were covered in carefully scripted words, names with birth dates and deaths, so many names. Others were covered with a single name, over and over. The Doctor turned from the wall in front of him as the name there was now carrying on the wind like a soul shattering cry. The Doctor quickly began running, following the misery to a cave in the ice. He stopped and looked up and saw him there. A pile of rags sat in the cave mouth with its head thrown back crying out. The Doctor could feel tears forming in his eyes, not just from the cold winds, and he looked up at the raw loss, "Oh, Jack."
The crying stopped.
The Doctor approached the shell of Jack Harkness slowly as if he was a wild animal that might spook; or a ghost that may well vanish. What he saw before him hardly resembled the handsome rogue he'd known; the figure was gaunt, hardly more than skin stretched over a skeleton. It was as if Jack had mummified himself in the frozen wastelands as punishment. "Jack?"
The blue eyes were unfocused, but otherwise unchanged. "There's no one here by that name." His voice was scratchy and lifeless, "Jack Harkness lost too much, and people died because of him. His name should be forgotten in time. Only the souls he failed should be remembered on the winds." He moved like a wraith, crawling deeper into the cave. The Doctor couldn't believe what he saw, but carefully followed into the cold darkness. After a few moments he reached the deepest part of the cave and a soft glow made it possible to see around him like Earth on a moonlight night. The icy surface glowed because of small creatures trapped in the ice- their bioluminescence continuing even after an eternity. The Doctor looked carefully at the icy surface and noted that every inch of the tunnel walls were covered in finely carved words. Odd passages that read like a personal journal, but obviously not written by Jack as some of the comments were obviously about him. After a few moments it became clear who the author had been. The Doctor was running a finger along one such passage when the rattling voice behind him spoke, "He never did figure out how I tricked the measuring tape."
The Doctor spun around and looked carefully at the blank visage, "You need to let it go Jack, you can't mourn forever."
Hoarse laughter echoed around the icy cavern, "Oh, but I can. You forget- I'm wrong, remember? A fixed point. I can mourn until all the stars burn out and the Universe goes cold, just like this world."
The Doctor sighed, "You could; but Jack, would they want you to? I've lost too Jack, I caused the death of my entire world..."
"And you ran," Jack hissed, "you ran and you kept running. That's what you do isn't it? You try to outrun all of your loses." Jack turned and slowly moved to the furthest wall of the cave, "I'm tired of losing and so I'm not losing anything or anyone again." He placed a small metal tool against the ice and began scraping carefully, "I carve his words into the caves because they were private. No one enters the caves except me, so they are still private and they'll be here forever. Even after the universe is nothing more than darkness and ice, his words will still be there- only the ice." He turned and stared blankly at the Time Lord, "Leave me alone."
The Doctor sat down next to Jack and watched him carving the words that were obviously memorized, "I run because if I stop, I'll be just as lost as you. If I let it catch me then who'll be left, Jack?" The Doctor placed a hand on Jack's shoulder and felt the twitch and underneath that, raw bone, "The universe needs you Jack- you may be an impossible thing, but you are needed."
"I won't watch people die for me." The voice hardly carried.
"Then don't. Leave Jack Harkness here with the words. Be someone else, be someone better."
He looked at the Doctor and frowned, "I won't go back to Earth."
The Doctor smiled, "Of course not. I was thinking something exotic, the Silver Devastation perhaps?" He stood up and offered a hand, which was taken with some trepidation.
Jack looked at the Doctor, then pulled two small crystal vials from his tattered coat, "I need to go to Earth for a day though. Just," he stuttered and searched for the right word.
The Doctor clasped a hand over Jack's, "To say goodbye."