Dedicated to memory [Old fic]
Title: Dedicated to memory
Rating: PG - 13
Word Count: 457
Pairings: Hint of Jack/Gwen
Summary: It's been a while since there were things Jack would rather forget...
The last thing Jack did before he went to sleep that day he woke up two years shy in the memory bank was to swear he would endeavor to remember everything. Even if it was a bad memory, or an unpleasant one. Because it was another memory they hadn't stolen, because it made him stronger. A man is the sum of his memories. He can't remember where he heard that said, but he knows there's truth in it.
Before descending to becoming an intergalactic confidence man he hoarded everything. Then, when circumstances forced him to move around more he had to let some of it go. He clung to his photos and started a diary, to have something tangible. Told tales from childhood to people he conned and handed out anecdotes to strangers, guys sitting next to him at the bar. Made him sound like he'd seen it all, been it all. Also reminded him of all the things they hadn't taken away.
These days he doesn't talk about himself so much. He has a diary locked away in his quarters (he tries to say "apartment", or “flat” given that he’s in Wales, but he remains a military man at heart). Volumes, writing things as they happen, things that current events remind him of, random memories he's thinking of for no reason. That's enough for him now. Especially now he has memories he doesn't want - that's taking quite some getting used to.
He likes making other people forget. It's not quite the same as with him, because usually he's only making them forget a few hours, too short a time for them to suspect - they'll fill the gaps with common sense (which, in Jack's opinion, is far too common without enough sense these days) and never be any the wiser that they've been made to forget, that they've been robbed of memories.
God, but he loves the expression. Likes the feeling of power as he watches the horror dawn on their faces realise what he's done. He's not the helpless one, confused and screaming. He's more than that now. Something tells him he shouldn't be quite so jubilant about this. That this is, perhaps, sadistic. But he reasons that he's faced a major philosophical turnabout - that’s enough to screw with anybody, and he wasn't exactly a saint to begin with.
He's given up on those two years, now. He's saving all his hopes for finding the Doctor, trying to get help. But then there's that Police Officer, Gwen Cooper. She doesn't stumble across the base, she finds it. Finds them. Twice. She remembers somehow. And looking at her, Jack starts to feel that maybe those two years aren't quite as far away as he thinks.
Rating: PG - 13
Word Count: 457
Pairings: Hint of Jack/Gwen
Summary: It's been a while since there were things Jack would rather forget...
The last thing Jack did before he went to sleep that day he woke up two years shy in the memory bank was to swear he would endeavor to remember everything. Even if it was a bad memory, or an unpleasant one. Because it was another memory they hadn't stolen, because it made him stronger. A man is the sum of his memories. He can't remember where he heard that said, but he knows there's truth in it.
Before descending to becoming an intergalactic confidence man he hoarded everything. Then, when circumstances forced him to move around more he had to let some of it go. He clung to his photos and started a diary, to have something tangible. Told tales from childhood to people he conned and handed out anecdotes to strangers, guys sitting next to him at the bar. Made him sound like he'd seen it all, been it all. Also reminded him of all the things they hadn't taken away.
These days he doesn't talk about himself so much. He has a diary locked away in his quarters (he tries to say "apartment", or “flat” given that he’s in Wales, but he remains a military man at heart). Volumes, writing things as they happen, things that current events remind him of, random memories he's thinking of for no reason. That's enough for him now. Especially now he has memories he doesn't want - that's taking quite some getting used to.
He likes making other people forget. It's not quite the same as with him, because usually he's only making them forget a few hours, too short a time for them to suspect - they'll fill the gaps with common sense (which, in Jack's opinion, is far too common without enough sense these days) and never be any the wiser that they've been made to forget, that they've been robbed of memories.
God, but he loves the expression. Likes the feeling of power as he watches the horror dawn on their faces realise what he's done. He's not the helpless one, confused and screaming. He's more than that now. Something tells him he shouldn't be quite so jubilant about this. That this is, perhaps, sadistic. But he reasons that he's faced a major philosophical turnabout - that’s enough to screw with anybody, and he wasn't exactly a saint to begin with.
He's given up on those two years, now. He's saving all his hopes for finding the Doctor, trying to get help. But then there's that Police Officer, Gwen Cooper. She doesn't stumble across the base, she finds it. Finds them. Twice. She remembers somehow. And looking at her, Jack starts to feel that maybe those two years aren't quite as far away as he thinks.