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Torchwood -- Snow and Sand

Title: Snow and Sand
redismycolour Challenge: Day Twenty-Seven
Date Written: 1/30/09
Rating: PG/K+
Word Count: 373
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto
Spoilers: Torchwood 02
Warnings: Character Death
Author Notes: When I first saw it I thought it looked like sand.


There were, of course, many awful ways to die. Jack knew most of them, had experienced quite a few firsthand, but was grateful that there were just a few old stand-bys in Torchwood. Getting killed creatively was fun, but always exhausting.

Gunshot wounds, of course, were the highest. Guns including alien weaponry that involved some sort of projectile, not just the messy gunpowder explosion-propelled lead bullet kind humans had invented. After that came blunt force trauma, getting thrown back and smacking his head and bleeding very quickly and very profusely all over the floor.

Internal bleeding was a very close third. And it hurt like hell. Organs getting so bruised and worn that they became like mush, blood seeping in and out of various parts. The cold seeping into every inch of his body. The Dark there at the end, waiting for him like a long-lost lover with arms open wide.

He was already heading towards that end, propped up and buckled in the front passenger seat of the SUV, Ianto at the wheel. His head was pressed against the window, watching the snow flash before his eyes and starting to hallucinate that it was sand, that he was home again.

It was a common occurrence for the slower deaths, wanting to be back somewhere warm and safe and loved.



Torchwood Three.


Ianto was gripping his hand tightly, speaking to him in a reassuring tone. Jack couldn’t quite make out the words anymore, had given up long ago, but he liked the sound of Ianto’s voice.

He dimly felt the car slow down, and could just make out two little shapes playing in the snowy road. Ianto blew the horn to get their attention, and Jack watched as they shuffled off to the side, the older boy holding the younger’s hand.

He blinked.

And there was him and Gray standing on the side of the road, covered in sand, faces flushed red from their play and the sun. He had a tight grip on Gray’s hand and those solemn eyes of his brother looking up at him.

He blinked again and watched in the rearview mirror as the two little boys went back to their play in the snow


( 21 Scribbles — Want to Scribble? )
Jan. 30th, 2009 06:46 pm (UTC)
Very nice, I could see Jack drifting back to his former safe places when he his dying a slow death.
Jan. 31st, 2009 06:59 am (UTC)
Oh yes. I imagine the TARDIS especially is always going to be his safe, happy place.
Jan. 30th, 2009 06:55 pm (UTC)
Oh this was very sad. I can totally see Jack drifting back to Boeshane when he's on the verge of death. Really well done!
Jan. 31st, 2009 06:58 am (UTC)
Thank you so much!
Jan. 30th, 2009 07:31 pm (UTC)
Oh Jack! That was gorgeous.

Also, I may have started re-reading Different Sort of Science again last night. I was up until half 1 reading it.
Jan. 31st, 2009 06:57 am (UTC)
... I should do that too, because I'm writing Different Kind of Magic and my betas are going nuts reminding me what I wrote already. *laughs*
Jan. 30th, 2009 08:04 pm (UTC)
loved that, you described that beautifully and that connection with Boeshane... heartbreaking in so many ways - brilliant fic
Jan. 31st, 2009 06:56 am (UTC)
Thank you so much!
Jan. 30th, 2009 08:30 pm (UTC)
*lip wibble* Poor Jack *huggles him*
Jan. 30th, 2009 08:38 pm (UTC)
*offers tissue* Thank you.
Jan. 30th, 2009 11:26 pm (UTC)
Oh that's just...OUCH.
Jan. 31st, 2009 06:47 am (UTC)
It hurt to write, seriously.
(Deleted comment)
Jan. 31st, 2009 06:46 am (UTC)
Yeah, I can see that too. The slow deaths that he can't fight back against must be the worst.

Thank you!
Jan. 31st, 2009 06:15 am (UTC)
*sob* that was beautiful. I loved the concept!
Jan. 31st, 2009 06:45 am (UTC)

Thank you!
Jan. 31st, 2009 06:21 am (UTC)
Poor Jack. *wibble*

I loved how you described this. And I can see Jack drifting back to Boeshane while he's dying.
Jan. 31st, 2009 06:45 am (UTC)
*offers tissue*

I think that despite everything Jack grew up with, Boeshane = home = safe.
Jan. 31st, 2009 11:31 pm (UTC)
*whimpers again*

need fluff now.
Feb. 1st, 2009 06:13 am (UTC)
How about hopeful fic? *points to recent post*
Feb. 3rd, 2009 01:41 pm (UTC)
Oh dear, poor Jack... *wibble*
Feb. 4th, 2009 01:07 am (UTC)
*offers tissues*
( 21 Scribbles — Want to Scribble? )


do not attempt!
Verba volant, scripta manent

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