Reflections

Jack Harkness clicked the phone closed, and said a silent thank you to the alcohol that, for the first time in entirely too long, was doing exactly as he intended, making him numb. Gwen hadn't meant it, really, but that was her all over. Sometimes she just spoke without thinking, or maybe she did think, but didn't count on the reaction. He glanced at the back of the young man asleep beside him. "Beautiful, reckless but beautiful," he thought. It'd not been his intention when he'd left Gwen and Esther behind to end up in some strange kid's bed. Actually, he hadn't been thinking that far. What Rex had said stung far more than he was willing to let show in front of anyone. Well, maybe Gwen but she'd been there, lived through it.

Actually he'd been looking for a drink. The problem with his immortal body was it took him an extremely large quantity of alcohol, consumed rapidly and continuously to overcome his metabolism. Oh, he'd managed it more than once since he'd woken up along on that space station, the only living thing amidst the cold, the silence and the dalek dust, but in the end, it was never worth it. It never lasted long enough or bought him anything but more time. When he stopped running, it was still himself he brought with him.

Brad, that was his name. It was the coat, actually. Aching as he was, all it had taken was that hint of what he'd lost to have him clinging. And the kid was so very alive. Jack'd wondered if this was how he'd seemed to Ianto, just glowing. He had tried to focus on Brad, he was cocking and confident, everything Ianto had not been when they'd first started. At least he'd managed not to scream his dead lover's name at the wrong moment, though it was difficult.

Gwen was right, if this had come sooner... Ianto would be trying to protect him in that unobtrusive way of his. Then there was Stephen, his beautiful grandson… With an effort, he held back the sobs. "Ok, maybe time to get out of here," he thought. Gwen was buay with her family, she needed to be. They were a good team, they had been and they would be, but right now he needed to get up.

"Had a good wallow?" He could almost hear Ianto say. The beautiful Welsh accent that he could still hear, sometimes encouraging, sometimes joking, and in his darkest hours, accusing, screaming in his nightmares to be saved or be reassured that he was loved. But Jack had not been able to do it. Everyone always thought it was Ianto who wouldn't accept the inevitable end of their relationship, with his death, probably too young. In reality it was Jack who had never been able to accept it, even in the end, trying to give his life to his partner, unable to say the words that they both knew would mean he had accepted the truth, that it was the end and he couldn't save him.

Yep, the world was always ending, the clock had run out for Ianto, and for Stephen, but there were the others, Ianto's family, Gwen's daughter, even Rhys. If he didn't have it in him to be a hero for the rest of a nameless, faceless world, there were still those that it was worth saving for, Alice, the daughter that hated him, Esther and even Rex, trying hard even though they'd been thrown in the deep end without warning, or even instructions. And there was Brad, pretty sleeping Brad and all the ones like him. He couldn't save them all, but maybe he could save just enough, just one more.