#Fic - Whats in a word?
Fic : Dr who/Torchwood
Rating: Gen
Spoliers : none.
Even though I hate the idea Jack becoming The Face of Boe, I felt inspired to write This :
When you are millions of years old you don’t waste your words on things that are trivial. You have said all you have to say many times over. The art of communication is perfected each syllable uttered is calculated; each constantan carefully uttered, and every vowel well placed. Sentences short but with more to them than a mortal could convey using a thousand. A million meanings to one word yet that word carefully selected, perfectly placed. The sound, the feel, the suggestion of every syllable that rolls over your tongue is planned. In this case one short inconspicuous sentence devoid of any artistic technique. Plebeians’ words from the mouth of an old soldier who has died to save those he does not know, and now never will. An ordinary man who because extraordinary, bending the rules of nature and time around his own body; a rock in the rapids of time. The sentence uttered seems meaningless and devoid of emotion at the time. Perhaps a little disappointing for the last words of a man who has spoken more than any other? Yet they have so much meaning, tell of lost love found then lost again, heartbreak loneliness, betrayal and forgiveness.
“You are not alone”
Four letters whispered on a death bed to the loneliest traveller time has ever touched. Further down his timeline, not far on the grand scale of things, he thinks he has found the meaning of those words. As he meets professor Yana and the golden strands of time sew together the person that ripped his being up to hide. The drums they call again. A young soldier changed by time with heart of fire yet it is still easily burned stands beside him. The traveller barely notices him, only rejects him with a mocking chant of ‘wrong’. Each word stabbing his soul like a blade of fire and ice. The traveller’s old friend and enemy lies dead in his arms and the words said seem hollow they mock and tease him of what he had lost yet never had. The lonely traveller had never been so alone, an oncoming storm with no guiding wind. For a soldier who will live millions of years this in retrospect was only a blink of an eye but for the boy soldier who was already older then his face it lasted an eternity. The old soldier knows that patience is a virtue, for one day the lonely traveller will realise the true meaning of the words but not for now, not for a long time.
You. Are. Not. alone. Y.A.N.A. would not the cure the aliment of one whose name it is to heal and help but it brought together two forces and entangled them in a web of time so that neither would have to walk alone again. One following the other hanging behind on the slow path while the other runs ahead; yet he will always be there when the other stumbles, standing shoulder to shoulder in times of trouble , leading him to safety when all seems lost and carrying him when his world falls down yet content to watch him fly away again on the breeze of time. Neither will walk alone again. For those lasts words weren’t a prediction or a warning but a promise.