just_muse_me #24 7.1: FIVE weddings and ONE funeral
The room was lavish and overdone, decorated with a gilt gold fabric that dramatically draped the room and accented with rare flowers shipped in from three different galaxies. There were hundreds of people; guests and staff, barely one that knew the other. It was the perfect place to run a job.
He was there dressed in the same robes as the other hired help, he blended in. Surprisingly enough he could be good at that when he so chose. It was a boring job though, retrieve a stone that was inlaid into the bride's dress. Simple enough and it paid well considering the lack of risk. He was a man that enjoyed a bit of adventure, but everyone had to make a living, and everyone had to get by.
He didn't care why the stone was wanted, as long as his retrieving it wouldn't end in anyone being hurt. Some agents didn't seem to value that as a high concern, but then he wasn't some agents. Life and people were important to him, even if he did a good impression of passing off as otherwise.
The room was set, the guests all seated, and he was ready to do his job.
Three hours later he was hot tailing it out of town with the stone in tow still attached to the dress, oh, and the bride was still in it.
The job sometimes had its perks.
~
He'd adjusted and readjusted his cravat so many times he couldn't remember. He wasn't one with a preposition to be nervous, but right now he felt nothing but.
Getting married wasn't anything he had ever imagined he'd do. It wasn't something he felt fit with his personality. He was over the top, too much for anyone but himself. But he'd changed. His time on Earth was turning him into someone else.
He was naive too. He thought that he might be able to play a game of being normal. It wasn't something he'd thought he'd wanted until he met her, of course. But when he did, he wanted it with every fibre of his being.
He had fallen in love. If he was lucky, maybe they'd have a family. Of course it would never be conventional and some day before long he'd have to sit her down and explain to her the unexplainable. But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
For now though all he had to contend with was looking good and saying 'I do'; he could do that.
The organ struck up and he took a deep breath. One last straighten of the cravat and he took a half turn to the side to watch his bride in all her beauty as she made her way down the aisle towards him. Towards the next step of his life.
~
The wedding was that day and he knew it. He hadn't been told about it, not directly, but he heard about it, as he heard about most things, and it was just about all he could think about. He'd asked Alex for more work, for anything that might provide even a thin veil of a distraction. But then Alex didn't know why Jack was so troubled, and he just told him to enjoy his weekend, to take a break for once.
He was under no illusion that there were ever a scenario where he would be there dressed in his finest suit (not that he owned a finest suit), arm in arm, the proud father walking his daughter down the aisle, ready to give her away.
He was not the proud father. He was not a father to be proud of.
So it was nothing short of a shock when he'd received a call that morning, silent and then quiet, a shaky voice, "... Dad? Dad could you get here? Could you come?" She didn't need to ask. He'd love to be there. He'd drop everything to be there, were there anything to drop.
He didn't play an active role, or a role at all. But he was there. He stood at the back, passed off as a family friend from abroad, in town for a few days. He stood to the side receiving disapproving glares from Lucia who no doubt didn't want him there, stood as he watched a man he didn't recognise lead her away and even further out of his life than she already was. He watched as she became Mrs. Carter, as she lost a name that was never truly hers to begin with.
She looked happy that day, and that's what he was glad of. He was glad he could see her smile, and glad that she wanted him to be there to see it.
~
It would be wishful thinking of the highest order to imagine that a wedding for any member of Torchwood would ever go smoothly. But then the bride being impregnated by a Nostrovite with the mother there waiting to rip her open, well, that's a slightly bigger hitch than expected.
None of them had received an express invitation, it was generally accepted that they could go just as it was generally accepted that none of them would. It was probably better that way. It would be less confusing, what with Owen and with Jack. Of course with Jack.
But then things never do go quite to plan.
So he had ended up there, with the rest of his team, and after a diversion of their usual variety, he sat and watched as Gwen Elizabeth Cooper married Rhys Alun Williams and another chapter of his life closed.
It wasn't upsetting, but it was a reminder of something he couldn't have; something he'd tried to have once but that fell apart in every sense. It made him feel lonely. Because even though there was a man, just a couple of seats down who cared for him so much, who might even love him and who he was beginning to feel he might love too, as scary as that is, they could never have that. He could never have that.
He danced with her that night. Smiled and shared a moment as he said his quiet goodbyes. And then? Then danced with Ianto, another chapter was still being written.
~
By the time that they arrived at the country house Jack was in a Bad Mood. The drive down from Cardiff had been filled with idle bickering between he and Ianto. That was fine, of course, he didn't mind that, he was used to that. It was the constant comments from Gwen about how like an old married couple they were that had got his back up. He hated the word couple, and hated it more because he knew it was true. It made him uncomfortable. It was too close to things he tried to keep away from. Possibly even more because as it happens, he didn't really want to keep away from them.
But he tried to keep a smile on his face. This was Martha Jones' wedding. A woman that's saved the world all on her own. A woman that everyone owes everything to. If anything called for a Torchwood road trip, it was this.
He'd said his hellos to her parents and sister: people he got to know in a place and a time that they'd all rather forget. But there was a bond there, even if an unspoken one, and maybe it was because of that that they seemed to like him. He was made welcome at this wedding, they all were, and that was nice. That was really nice.
The ceremony itself was beautiful, and even Jack had to admit that he enjoyed it. She deserved to be happy and he hoped that she was. Her dress was stunning, and she'd take just about anyone's breath away (a fact he reminded her of several times and that Gwen felt the need to mention every time she walked past). They shared a word afterwards, in private, about how they'd both wondered if 'he'd' turn up. Neither of them were surprised that he didn't.
At the reception he made jokes about not dancing with the bride for too long in case he made the groom jealous. Martha just suggested he dance with the groom. So he did, for a while, until he was whisked away by Ianto.
He was happy to be whisked.
~
He didn't think he deserved to go to the funeral. After all, the murder shouldn't be there to gloat on his own crime.
Because it was his crime. Or at least that's how he felt.
He didn't go to the church. He wasn't invited. But then how could they possibly invite a man who had disappeared? Who had made himself untraceable?
It was at the graveyard that he turned up. It was cold and the rain was biting. The Newport sky was dark and seemed to leave a grey tinge to the world, draining it of colour. He thought it was somehow fitting.
Standing in the distance he watched the hearse pull up at the gates. The flowers on top were clean white against the dark and immaculate car; letters that spelled out his name. It cut like a knife.
He saw Gwen and Rhys, holding tight to one another's hands. He saw the woman he suspected was his sister. But then he never really knew, did he. He never tried to know enough. He waited until they were out of sight, until the funeral party were gone with the coffin to commit him to the ground. Waited until they'd said their last goodbye at the graveside, and waited until with tears in their eyes they walked away. It was only then that he approached himself.
He stood at the open grave for so long that the sky turned dark. He'd stopped them from filling it in with a well placed note shoved into a hand. They didn't question it and he was left to himself. All by himself.
The light wood of the coffin was stark against the muddy soil of the ground. It felt barbaric to hide him under the ground like that, to hide his light from the world. But his light had gone out, and only now he was gone did Jack truly see the beauty of its shine.
He was all set to leave when a familiar face appeared at his side and slipped her hand into his. When a voice whispered to him that she knew he'd be there, and that he was coming back with her that night whether he wanted to or not.
For once, he was too tired to argue.
Muse: Captain Jack Harkness
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Word Count: 1789
He was there dressed in the same robes as the other hired help, he blended in. Surprisingly enough he could be good at that when he so chose. It was a boring job though, retrieve a stone that was inlaid into the bride's dress. Simple enough and it paid well considering the lack of risk. He was a man that enjoyed a bit of adventure, but everyone had to make a living, and everyone had to get by.
He didn't care why the stone was wanted, as long as his retrieving it wouldn't end in anyone being hurt. Some agents didn't seem to value that as a high concern, but then he wasn't some agents. Life and people were important to him, even if he did a good impression of passing off as otherwise.
The room was set, the guests all seated, and he was ready to do his job.
Three hours later he was hot tailing it out of town with the stone in tow still attached to the dress, oh, and the bride was still in it.
The job sometimes had its perks.
~
He'd adjusted and readjusted his cravat so many times he couldn't remember. He wasn't one with a preposition to be nervous, but right now he felt nothing but.
Getting married wasn't anything he had ever imagined he'd do. It wasn't something he felt fit with his personality. He was over the top, too much for anyone but himself. But he'd changed. His time on Earth was turning him into someone else.
He was naive too. He thought that he might be able to play a game of being normal. It wasn't something he'd thought he'd wanted until he met her, of course. But when he did, he wanted it with every fibre of his being.
He had fallen in love. If he was lucky, maybe they'd have a family. Of course it would never be conventional and some day before long he'd have to sit her down and explain to her the unexplainable. But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
For now though all he had to contend with was looking good and saying 'I do'; he could do that.
The organ struck up and he took a deep breath. One last straighten of the cravat and he took a half turn to the side to watch his bride in all her beauty as she made her way down the aisle towards him. Towards the next step of his life.
~
The wedding was that day and he knew it. He hadn't been told about it, not directly, but he heard about it, as he heard about most things, and it was just about all he could think about. He'd asked Alex for more work, for anything that might provide even a thin veil of a distraction. But then Alex didn't know why Jack was so troubled, and he just told him to enjoy his weekend, to take a break for once.
He was under no illusion that there were ever a scenario where he would be there dressed in his finest suit (not that he owned a finest suit), arm in arm, the proud father walking his daughter down the aisle, ready to give her away.
He was not the proud father. He was not a father to be proud of.
So it was nothing short of a shock when he'd received a call that morning, silent and then quiet, a shaky voice, "... Dad? Dad could you get here? Could you come?" She didn't need to ask. He'd love to be there. He'd drop everything to be there, were there anything to drop.
He didn't play an active role, or a role at all. But he was there. He stood at the back, passed off as a family friend from abroad, in town for a few days. He stood to the side receiving disapproving glares from Lucia who no doubt didn't want him there, stood as he watched a man he didn't recognise lead her away and even further out of his life than she already was. He watched as she became Mrs. Carter, as she lost a name that was never truly hers to begin with.
She looked happy that day, and that's what he was glad of. He was glad he could see her smile, and glad that she wanted him to be there to see it.
~
It would be wishful thinking of the highest order to imagine that a wedding for any member of Torchwood would ever go smoothly. But then the bride being impregnated by a Nostrovite with the mother there waiting to rip her open, well, that's a slightly bigger hitch than expected.
None of them had received an express invitation, it was generally accepted that they could go just as it was generally accepted that none of them would. It was probably better that way. It would be less confusing, what with Owen and with Jack. Of course with Jack.
But then things never do go quite to plan.
So he had ended up there, with the rest of his team, and after a diversion of their usual variety, he sat and watched as Gwen Elizabeth Cooper married Rhys Alun Williams and another chapter of his life closed.
It wasn't upsetting, but it was a reminder of something he couldn't have; something he'd tried to have once but that fell apart in every sense. It made him feel lonely. Because even though there was a man, just a couple of seats down who cared for him so much, who might even love him and who he was beginning to feel he might love too, as scary as that is, they could never have that. He could never have that.
He danced with her that night. Smiled and shared a moment as he said his quiet goodbyes. And then? Then danced with Ianto, another chapter was still being written.
~
By the time that they arrived at the country house Jack was in a Bad Mood. The drive down from Cardiff had been filled with idle bickering between he and Ianto. That was fine, of course, he didn't mind that, he was used to that. It was the constant comments from Gwen about how like an old married couple they were that had got his back up. He hated the word couple, and hated it more because he knew it was true. It made him uncomfortable. It was too close to things he tried to keep away from. Possibly even more because as it happens, he didn't really want to keep away from them.
But he tried to keep a smile on his face. This was Martha Jones' wedding. A woman that's saved the world all on her own. A woman that everyone owes everything to. If anything called for a Torchwood road trip, it was this.
He'd said his hellos to her parents and sister: people he got to know in a place and a time that they'd all rather forget. But there was a bond there, even if an unspoken one, and maybe it was because of that that they seemed to like him. He was made welcome at this wedding, they all were, and that was nice. That was really nice.
The ceremony itself was beautiful, and even Jack had to admit that he enjoyed it. She deserved to be happy and he hoped that she was. Her dress was stunning, and she'd take just about anyone's breath away (a fact he reminded her of several times and that Gwen felt the need to mention every time she walked past). They shared a word afterwards, in private, about how they'd both wondered if 'he'd' turn up. Neither of them were surprised that he didn't.
At the reception he made jokes about not dancing with the bride for too long in case he made the groom jealous. Martha just suggested he dance with the groom. So he did, for a while, until he was whisked away by Ianto.
He was happy to be whisked.
~
He didn't think he deserved to go to the funeral. After all, the murder shouldn't be there to gloat on his own crime.
Because it was his crime. Or at least that's how he felt.
He didn't go to the church. He wasn't invited. But then how could they possibly invite a man who had disappeared? Who had made himself untraceable?
It was at the graveyard that he turned up. It was cold and the rain was biting. The Newport sky was dark and seemed to leave a grey tinge to the world, draining it of colour. He thought it was somehow fitting.
Standing in the distance he watched the hearse pull up at the gates. The flowers on top were clean white against the dark and immaculate car; letters that spelled out his name. It cut like a knife.
He saw Gwen and Rhys, holding tight to one another's hands. He saw the woman he suspected was his sister. But then he never really knew, did he. He never tried to know enough. He waited until they were out of sight, until the funeral party were gone with the coffin to commit him to the ground. Waited until they'd said their last goodbye at the graveside, and waited until with tears in their eyes they walked away. It was only then that he approached himself.
He stood at the open grave for so long that the sky turned dark. He'd stopped them from filling it in with a well placed note shoved into a hand. They didn't question it and he was left to himself. All by himself.
The light wood of the coffin was stark against the muddy soil of the ground. It felt barbaric to hide him under the ground like that, to hide his light from the world. But his light had gone out, and only now he was gone did Jack truly see the beauty of its shine.
He was all set to leave when a familiar face appeared at his side and slipped her hand into his. When a voice whispered to him that she knew he'd be there, and that he was coming back with her that night whether he wanted to or not.
For once, he was too tired to argue.
Muse: Captain Jack Harkness
Fandom: Doctor Who/Torchwood
Word Count: 1789