Fic: Ending
Title: Ending
Author: cookielaura
Characters: Gwen, Jack (hints of Gwen/Jack, Gwen/Rhys)
Wordcount: 700
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Torchwood is not mine, and I'm not making any money from this
Notes: Written for challenge 4 of torchwood_las. The prompt was Out of Time and the object to mention was flowers. Getting the wordcount down to 700 was hell, and I wish I saved the longer version so I could post that instead, but alas, I did not!
Ending
‘Who brought all the flowers?’ Jack asks by way of greeting as he slips into the room.
Gwen grins at him. She always greets him with a grin these days, he thinks fondly. There was a time when she would meet him with excited hugs, with shouting if he’d stayed away too long, with slaps and shoves if he’d missed some essential event - Anwen’s graduation had been a particular sticking point. And once, when things were bad with Rhys, she’d greeted him by pushing him against the back of the door, pressing herself into him and kissing him in a way that verged on violent, before wrenching herself away just as quickly, with wild eyes and a hand over her mouth.
But those days are gone. She has grown accustomed to his comings and goings, and if it bothers her now she doesn’t show it. She just grins.
‘Rhys bought them,’ she says, glancing around at the pink roses, white lilies and yellow carnations that brighten the small room.
Jack moves closer, takes her hand in his gently.
‘All these years and he still doesn’t know you don’t like them?’ he asks, remembering when she’d grumble good-naturedly at the Hub about what a waste of money flowers were and how she wished Rhys would buy her something useful, something that wouldn’t wither and die within a couple of weeks - like a jacket, she’d suggested, or at least some chocolate.
Gwen shifts in an attempted shrug. It hurts, Jack can see, even though she covers the wince. ‘I asked him for them,’ she says softly. ‘Figured if there’s a time to spend money on flowers, it’s now. They’ll last longer than me at this rate’.
Jack doesn’t know if it’s a joke or not. Looking closer, he settles on not. He feels her hand squeeze his own, weakly.
‘I thought...’ Gwen starts, and then drops her head, embarrassed.
‘What?’ He is curious as to what she could possibly be too shy to say, after all this time.
She laughs, but it sounds sad and small. ‘I thought it wouldn’t happen to me. All the others, who grew old around you, who died, whilst you stayed young... I just didn’t think I’d be the same. I never really believed we’d be here’.
‘What did you think would happen?’ Jack asks carefully.
‘I don’t know. Maybe that the world would end whilst we were at Torchwood and we’d all go out together in a blaze of glory. Or sometimes... Sometimes I dreamed I’d become immortal too, and we’d travel the galaxies together.’ She smiles, rolls her eyes in self-mockery. ‘At the very least, I thought I’d die young and beautiful’.
‘You are beautiful,' he says - and suddenly questions why it has taken him so long to tell her. He wonders, not for the first time, whether things would have been different, if it wasn’t for Rhys. Or for Ianto. Or for the Doctor, or the Year That Never Was, or the 456, or a hundred other things. Does it even matter? They’d still have ended up here.
Gwen’s eyes are closed, and he’s not sure if she even heard. But then she’s turning and looking at him almost nervously. It reminds him of the days when she wanted too much from him, asked too much of him, and it sets his teeth on edge. He doesn’t think he can disappoint her when she’s like this.
‘Will you stay?’ she asks, quietly. ‘I know I don’t ask, normally, but it seems like these might count as extenuating circumstances.’
‘You should be with family,’ he says, and he’s not sure whether it’s the truth or a cop out. ‘Rhys and Anwen, and the grandchildren.’
‘You are family,’ Gwen says without a thought. The side of her mouth quirks upwards. ‘Even Rhys thinks so now.’
Jack snorts. ‘Yeah, I’m sure. Probably thinks of me as the drunk, sex-crazed uncle who everyone wishes didn’t come to the party.’
‘That’s exactly how he sees you,’ Gwen murmurs with a smile. She’s struggling with the words now, her voice weak as she staves off tiredness. ‘Say you’ll stay, Jack.’
He sighs. ‘I’ll stay.’
‘Until the end?’
‘Until the end.’