Fic: We Can't Save Them All
Title: We Can't Save Them All
Author: aibhinn
Pairing/s: Jack and Gwen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making any money. Please not to sue me.
Summary: The hardest lesson is how to let go.
Author's notes: Written for round 1.04 of the writerinadrawer competition. The prompts were screencaps from Series 2, which can be found here. Obviously, I chose the one with Jack and Gwen. Additional required element: mention of a picture.
"They're gone, Gwen," Jack said urgently. "We've got to go!"
She shook her head, continuing to push with all her strength on the door that separated her from the four children in the storage room of the warehouse they were in, trapped by the fire that was spreading rapidly. "No," she said, hearing the quaver in her voice and hating herself for it. "No. They're not. They're still alive, I can see them, they're right there!" They stood there, clearly visible through the window in the door-the door that was blocked now by a fallen beam. She braced her shoulder against it, shoved with all her weight. It didn't budge. "Help me!" she begged.
"Those aren't the kids you were talking to yesterday," Jack told her. "Those are just-shells. Anything that was human died when the aliens took them over."
"They're blocked in, Jack!" she snapped. "They're alive and they're trapped in a fire and they're scared, and we've got to get them out!" How could he do this? How could he just stand there and watch children die? She wiped tears away with an impatient hand and shoved again, pulling the sleeve of her jacket down to protect her hand from the hot metal of the latch.
Mouth set, Jack grabbed her and turned her to face the window again, looking at the four young figures standing there, watching. "Do they look scared to you?" he demanded. "Do they look even remotely human? Their eyes, Gwen. Look into their eyes."
Unwillingly, she did. Alien eyes stared back at her, fathomless and terrifyingly calm. Another beam fell behind the group of them, blazing furiously. They didn't so much as flinch.
"Let's go," Jack said, hands still on her shoulders. "We've got to get out of here before this whole place comes down or we lose our way out. There's nothing we can do."
"And what about them?" she demanded, not moving. She knew he could pick her up bodily and leave with her if he wanted to, but damn if she was going to make it easy on him.
"The bodies will die," Jack said. "And the aliens inside them will die too. We've lost these kids, but at least we won't lose any more."
The heat was blinding now, even through the door. Flames partially obscured her view of the four young faces staring at her with such eerie calm. The image branded itself on the backs of her eyes, and she knew that in fifty years' time she'd still be able to see them, as clearly as if she had the picture of them in front of her.
The roof creaked alarmingly, and Jack grabbed her by the hand. "Let's go. Now!"
She allowed herself to be pulled out of the burning building. At first she ran only because he was tugging on her, but as the full horror of what was happening began to penetrate, she wrenched her hand free of Jack's and darted down an alleyway. She didn't know where she was running to; all she knew was that she had to be away, far away, from that building when it collapsed on those tiny figures.
"Gwen!" she heard Jack call behind her. "Damn it, Gwen, stop!"
But she couldn't. She ran and she ran and she ran, ignoring the stitch in her side and the sobbing ache of cold air in her lungs, until she felt Jack grab her and yank her backward, forced bodily up against a wall. She fought, but he was far too strong for her, and he just held her, letting her rail against him until she exhausted herself.
"Why?" she demanded, trying to free her hands so she could pound on his chest. "Why? Why wouldn't you let me save them?"
"Because I couldn't lose you, too!" he shouted back. "If you'd gone in there you'd have died, and I couldn't let that happen."
"But I could've saved them!" she cried.
He shook her. "Look at me. Gwen, look at me." She stilled, glaring at him through the curtain of hair that had fallen into her eyes. His gaze was gentle and sorrowful. "We can't save them all, Gwen," he said quietly. "It's the world's hardest lesson to learn, especially when kids are involved, but we just can't."
The soft words were her undoing, not least because it was the first and worst lesson she'd learned in the police. She felt the horror and the anger and the terror melt away into tears. Jack released her wrists and gathered her to him, and she sobbed on his shoulder as he held her.
Author: aibhinn
Pairing/s: Jack and Gwen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making any money. Please not to sue me.
Summary: The hardest lesson is how to let go.
Author's notes: Written for round 1.04 of the writerinadrawer competition. The prompts were screencaps from Series 2, which can be found here. Obviously, I chose the one with Jack and Gwen. Additional required element: mention of a picture.
"They're gone, Gwen," Jack said urgently. "We've got to go!"
She shook her head, continuing to push with all her strength on the door that separated her from the four children in the storage room of the warehouse they were in, trapped by the fire that was spreading rapidly. "No," she said, hearing the quaver in her voice and hating herself for it. "No. They're not. They're still alive, I can see them, they're right there!" They stood there, clearly visible through the window in the door-the door that was blocked now by a fallen beam. She braced her shoulder against it, shoved with all her weight. It didn't budge. "Help me!" she begged.
"Those aren't the kids you were talking to yesterday," Jack told her. "Those are just-shells. Anything that was human died when the aliens took them over."
"They're blocked in, Jack!" she snapped. "They're alive and they're trapped in a fire and they're scared, and we've got to get them out!" How could he do this? How could he just stand there and watch children die? She wiped tears away with an impatient hand and shoved again, pulling the sleeve of her jacket down to protect her hand from the hot metal of the latch.
Mouth set, Jack grabbed her and turned her to face the window again, looking at the four young figures standing there, watching. "Do they look scared to you?" he demanded. "Do they look even remotely human? Their eyes, Gwen. Look into their eyes."
Unwillingly, she did. Alien eyes stared back at her, fathomless and terrifyingly calm. Another beam fell behind the group of them, blazing furiously. They didn't so much as flinch.
"Let's go," Jack said, hands still on her shoulders. "We've got to get out of here before this whole place comes down or we lose our way out. There's nothing we can do."
"And what about them?" she demanded, not moving. She knew he could pick her up bodily and leave with her if he wanted to, but damn if she was going to make it easy on him.
"The bodies will die," Jack said. "And the aliens inside them will die too. We've lost these kids, but at least we won't lose any more."
The heat was blinding now, even through the door. Flames partially obscured her view of the four young faces staring at her with such eerie calm. The image branded itself on the backs of her eyes, and she knew that in fifty years' time she'd still be able to see them, as clearly as if she had the picture of them in front of her.
The roof creaked alarmingly, and Jack grabbed her by the hand. "Let's go. Now!"
She allowed herself to be pulled out of the burning building. At first she ran only because he was tugging on her, but as the full horror of what was happening began to penetrate, she wrenched her hand free of Jack's and darted down an alleyway. She didn't know where she was running to; all she knew was that she had to be away, far away, from that building when it collapsed on those tiny figures.
"Gwen!" she heard Jack call behind her. "Damn it, Gwen, stop!"
But she couldn't. She ran and she ran and she ran, ignoring the stitch in her side and the sobbing ache of cold air in her lungs, until she felt Jack grab her and yank her backward, forced bodily up against a wall. She fought, but he was far too strong for her, and he just held her, letting her rail against him until she exhausted herself.
"Why?" she demanded, trying to free her hands so she could pound on his chest. "Why? Why wouldn't you let me save them?"
"Because I couldn't lose you, too!" he shouted back. "If you'd gone in there you'd have died, and I couldn't let that happen."
"But I could've saved them!" she cried.
He shook her. "Look at me. Gwen, look at me." She stilled, glaring at him through the curtain of hair that had fallen into her eyes. His gaze was gentle and sorrowful. "We can't save them all, Gwen," he said quietly. "It's the world's hardest lesson to learn, especially when kids are involved, but we just can't."
The soft words were her undoing, not least because it was the first and worst lesson she'd learned in the police. She felt the horror and the anger and the terror melt away into tears. Jack released her wrists and gathered her to him, and she sobbed on his shoulder as he held her.