My god.
Frobisher. And his wife. And his kids.
Jack killing his own grandson to save millions.
The look on his face afterwards.
Alice seeing him in the corridor and backing away without a word.
And Jack can't even die.
My god.
He's right that he's been corrupted by years of playing god. I do think that Jack picked the better of two unspeakable choices--better one child than millions. But there's no moral way to make that choice. There's no way to do it and come out intact. I feel sorry for Jack. But he's right, he has to be something else now.
I guess that's the end of Torchwood. What an amazing, brutal, brilliant, heartbreaking ending.
(Note: I know that there were plotholes and things to quibble about. I don't really want to talk about them here and now, because honestly I think this story was powerful enough that they don't matter. Other kinds of discussion are welcome, but please, I'd like this post to be a plothole- and quibble-free zone.)
*****