justprompts Nightmare: Part 1
Note: This is set in the alternate universe created in the Doctor Who episode 'Turn Left', in the days immediately after the attack of the Racnoss. Character death is a main theme. It'll likely be in either 2 or 3 parts, but I wanted to post what I've got so far to make sure I end up writing the rest - hopefully over the next couple of nights or so.
It's the 27th December 2007 when the phone rings with a call he never wants to receive.
"Captain Harkness?"
"Yes."
"Colonel Mace here, UNIT. We've a matter we need to discuss with you."
Despite his many years of military training, Jack Harkness isn't a man inclined to do as he's told. He doesn't follow orders any more, not from anyone, and certainly not from UNIT. Torchwood One isn't long in the dust and he's still working hard to rebuild and reshape it in the name of a man who deserves it. But even with all that it takes no more than a few short words to take him swiftly from the Torchwood Hub in Cardiff to careering down the motorway in the SUV.
The journey is an unpleasant one; a cold chill runs down his spine as he drives in silence, eyes focussed on the road like a man possessed. The words of the phone conversation echo in his mind.
"I assume you're aware of the incident on Christmas Eve. Intelligence tells us you were associated with the Doctor."
The light fades quickly in the cold December afternoon, and the street lights turn orange as they flicker into life against the greying sky. The road ahead is lit by the headlights of the SUV.
"We'd appreciate it, Captain, if you could attend with us at your soonest convenience. Today, if at all possible."
It's three hours later that he's pulling the SUV into a car park of a makeshift UNIT base near London City Airport. He stops the engine and just stares forward for a while, not realising his fingers are still white as they grip the steering wheel.
"What for?" He'd snapped at him.
"It's a matter best discussed face to face."
"I said what for. Now tell me."
"A body was recovered from under the Thames. It's been identified as the Doctor."
A hand knocks against the glass of the window, but it doesn't shock him. He feels numb and distant, like he's trapped inside a nightmare.
"Captain Harkness?"
He turns his head to look at the youthful face in a red beret sent to fetch him and he responds with nothing but a short nod. As he steps from the car his feet don't feel as though they touch the ground. The base is all tents and trailers guarded by well trained soldiers. It, like the air, is cold and unwelcoming. It seems somehow fitting.
Inside there's a flurry of people in suits and green-grey uniforms. They dash around with all the authority and purpose that only the military can manage. He was like that once, he remembers.
The soldier that walked him in tells him he'll fetch Colonel Mace, but he barely hears it, he's too closed off for that. In fact he barely notices a change until the soldier returns and this time with him an authoritative looking man who greets him with a nod.
"Captain Harkness. Thank you for coming at such short notice."
There was a time that Jack might have responded with the military respect he was programmed to give. But not now, he doesn't salute, doesn't even present much in the way of greeting at all. Instead he just instructs.
"Show me."
The pair walk along and people move out of their way without need for prompt or suggestion. They're soldiers that are well practised and perhaps well briefed too. They don't make eye contact unless addressed, and none of them are addressed. They're not important right now.
"It was retrieved earlier today from the facility underground. Heavily water damaged, but we still can't get inside it to confirm. Though really, it's all rather academic at this stage. We have a team working on it now."
"And the body?"
"With the medical team. The autopsy has been completed. I'm afraid to say it's pretty conclusive."
His head swings around and he stares at Colonel Mace as though it's his fault.
"I want to see the body," he says, and it's an instruction, not a request.
Jack has no authority here, but Colonel Mace is a good enough man to grant him a little grace, and that way of course it might be easier to get information from Harkness, if he has any at all.
"Of course. As soon as he's prepared."
They stop at the entrance to another tent, this one guarded by two more soldiers, each of which curtly nod to both men before pulling aside a tarpaulin to let them past. Jack doesn't want to enter. He stands there aware for a moment of nothing but his own breathing. He doesn't want to see it, he doesn't want it confirmed with his own eyes. At least when he's being told by everyone else he can deny it. He can deny it and pretend it's true.
"Captain?" The Colonel turns back and waits for him. He's patient, and if Jack weren't quite so tense he might even appreciate it.
With a nod he follows in behind. The tent is half in darkness, and though it's sealed, the cold seems to creep in from the outside. It sends a chill through him that seems somewhat fitting for the occasion. As the Colonel hits a button the lights in the room buzz and flicker into life and illuminate the darkness. It takes less than seconds for his fears to be confirmed.
In front of them it sits. It never looked out of place before, not on alien planets nor the middle of Cardiff Bay, but it does here. He stares at it with a blank expression. He wants to deny it, to blink and have it have been nothing more than a trick of the light. But that won't happen.
"The TARDIS, Captain," Colonel Mace says, as if to prompt a reaction.
"I know what it is." Jack's response is quick and sharp, but measured and carefully so. Oh he knows what it is, of course he knows what it is. He's travelled through time and space in that little blue box, and waited such a long time to get a chance to maybe do it again. But that won't happen now.
"His personal effects," the Colonel continues, gesturing to a table at the near side of the tent. "The clothes he was wearing and a piece of apparatus recovered from the site."
It takes Jack a moment to listen because he doesn't want to listen. He doesn't want to acknowledge it because then he'll have to deal with it and he's not ready for that.
But he's not afforded the luxury of taking the time he needs, and he has the Colonel watching him and waiting for a reaction; for any response at all. Even a man with as stiff an upper lip as he will surely grow tired of waiting before long.
So Jack turns and strolls over to the table with a casual air that's completely inappropriate to the situation. The clothes are unfamiliar to Jack but that doesn't matter. He doesn't need a leather jacket to prove a thing to him here and now.
The apparatus beside the cuff of the brown suit, however, is more familiar. His hand reaches to take it and he can practically feel the Colonel tensing up beside him. He doesn't care. He turns it in his fingers and it feels like walking into a memory. He remembers when he first saw it. When he was so underwhelmed by the idea of a screwdriver being sonic. They're good memories now. Some of his best.
Without warning he tosses the screwdriver to Colonel Mace who catches it with nervous fingers. "If you could be a little more careful with the equipment, Captain," the Colonel says with the sort of tone one might use to scold a child.
"Useful that," Jack tells him with unwarranted lightness. "Especially if you need to put up a few shelves."
"Really, Captain, if you could have a little more decorum."
Jack shoots the Colonel a warning look. He doesn't want to be told how to act or how to grieve. Because that's what this is for him, isn't it? Grief? He won't be told how to deal with that.
"Take me to him," he says, and his voice and demeanour are both firm and serious again. His gaze is warning, full of heat and danger masked behind amiable conversation. This isn't a matter up for debate. He wants to see him, and he wants to see him now. He's waited far too long.
Word count for this part: 1437
It's the 27th December 2007 when the phone rings with a call he never wants to receive.
"Captain Harkness?"
"Yes."
"Colonel Mace here, UNIT. We've a matter we need to discuss with you."
Despite his many years of military training, Jack Harkness isn't a man inclined to do as he's told. He doesn't follow orders any more, not from anyone, and certainly not from UNIT. Torchwood One isn't long in the dust and he's still working hard to rebuild and reshape it in the name of a man who deserves it. But even with all that it takes no more than a few short words to take him swiftly from the Torchwood Hub in Cardiff to careering down the motorway in the SUV.
The journey is an unpleasant one; a cold chill runs down his spine as he drives in silence, eyes focussed on the road like a man possessed. The words of the phone conversation echo in his mind.
"I assume you're aware of the incident on Christmas Eve. Intelligence tells us you were associated with the Doctor."
The light fades quickly in the cold December afternoon, and the street lights turn orange as they flicker into life against the greying sky. The road ahead is lit by the headlights of the SUV.
"We'd appreciate it, Captain, if you could attend with us at your soonest convenience. Today, if at all possible."
It's three hours later that he's pulling the SUV into a car park of a makeshift UNIT base near London City Airport. He stops the engine and just stares forward for a while, not realising his fingers are still white as they grip the steering wheel.
"What for?" He'd snapped at him.
"It's a matter best discussed face to face."
"I said what for. Now tell me."
"A body was recovered from under the Thames. It's been identified as the Doctor."
A hand knocks against the glass of the window, but it doesn't shock him. He feels numb and distant, like he's trapped inside a nightmare.
"Captain Harkness?"
He turns his head to look at the youthful face in a red beret sent to fetch him and he responds with nothing but a short nod. As he steps from the car his feet don't feel as though they touch the ground. The base is all tents and trailers guarded by well trained soldiers. It, like the air, is cold and unwelcoming. It seems somehow fitting.
Inside there's a flurry of people in suits and green-grey uniforms. They dash around with all the authority and purpose that only the military can manage. He was like that once, he remembers.
The soldier that walked him in tells him he'll fetch Colonel Mace, but he barely hears it, he's too closed off for that. In fact he barely notices a change until the soldier returns and this time with him an authoritative looking man who greets him with a nod.
"Captain Harkness. Thank you for coming at such short notice."
There was a time that Jack might have responded with the military respect he was programmed to give. But not now, he doesn't salute, doesn't even present much in the way of greeting at all. Instead he just instructs.
"Show me."
The pair walk along and people move out of their way without need for prompt or suggestion. They're soldiers that are well practised and perhaps well briefed too. They don't make eye contact unless addressed, and none of them are addressed. They're not important right now.
"It was retrieved earlier today from the facility underground. Heavily water damaged, but we still can't get inside it to confirm. Though really, it's all rather academic at this stage. We have a team working on it now."
"And the body?"
"With the medical team. The autopsy has been completed. I'm afraid to say it's pretty conclusive."
His head swings around and he stares at Colonel Mace as though it's his fault.
"I want to see the body," he says, and it's an instruction, not a request.
Jack has no authority here, but Colonel Mace is a good enough man to grant him a little grace, and that way of course it might be easier to get information from Harkness, if he has any at all.
"Of course. As soon as he's prepared."
They stop at the entrance to another tent, this one guarded by two more soldiers, each of which curtly nod to both men before pulling aside a tarpaulin to let them past. Jack doesn't want to enter. He stands there aware for a moment of nothing but his own breathing. He doesn't want to see it, he doesn't want it confirmed with his own eyes. At least when he's being told by everyone else he can deny it. He can deny it and pretend it's true.
"Captain?" The Colonel turns back and waits for him. He's patient, and if Jack weren't quite so tense he might even appreciate it.
With a nod he follows in behind. The tent is half in darkness, and though it's sealed, the cold seems to creep in from the outside. It sends a chill through him that seems somewhat fitting for the occasion. As the Colonel hits a button the lights in the room buzz and flicker into life and illuminate the darkness. It takes less than seconds for his fears to be confirmed.
In front of them it sits. It never looked out of place before, not on alien planets nor the middle of Cardiff Bay, but it does here. He stares at it with a blank expression. He wants to deny it, to blink and have it have been nothing more than a trick of the light. But that won't happen.
"The TARDIS, Captain," Colonel Mace says, as if to prompt a reaction.
"I know what it is." Jack's response is quick and sharp, but measured and carefully so. Oh he knows what it is, of course he knows what it is. He's travelled through time and space in that little blue box, and waited such a long time to get a chance to maybe do it again. But that won't happen now.
"His personal effects," the Colonel continues, gesturing to a table at the near side of the tent. "The clothes he was wearing and a piece of apparatus recovered from the site."
It takes Jack a moment to listen because he doesn't want to listen. He doesn't want to acknowledge it because then he'll have to deal with it and he's not ready for that.
But he's not afforded the luxury of taking the time he needs, and he has the Colonel watching him and waiting for a reaction; for any response at all. Even a man with as stiff an upper lip as he will surely grow tired of waiting before long.
So Jack turns and strolls over to the table with a casual air that's completely inappropriate to the situation. The clothes are unfamiliar to Jack but that doesn't matter. He doesn't need a leather jacket to prove a thing to him here and now.
The apparatus beside the cuff of the brown suit, however, is more familiar. His hand reaches to take it and he can practically feel the Colonel tensing up beside him. He doesn't care. He turns it in his fingers and it feels like walking into a memory. He remembers when he first saw it. When he was so underwhelmed by the idea of a screwdriver being sonic. They're good memories now. Some of his best.
Without warning he tosses the screwdriver to Colonel Mace who catches it with nervous fingers. "If you could be a little more careful with the equipment, Captain," the Colonel says with the sort of tone one might use to scold a child.
"Useful that," Jack tells him with unwarranted lightness. "Especially if you need to put up a few shelves."
"Really, Captain, if you could have a little more decorum."
Jack shoots the Colonel a warning look. He doesn't want to be told how to act or how to grieve. Because that's what this is for him, isn't it? Grief? He won't be told how to deal with that.
"Take me to him," he says, and his voice and demeanour are both firm and serious again. His gaze is warning, full of heat and danger masked behind amiable conversation. This isn't a matter up for debate. He wants to see him, and he wants to see him now. He's waited far too long.
Word count for this part: 1437