Title: Where Shall We Be When Death Strikes Home

Prompt: The chance of happiness that Tommy and Tosh never got.

Summary: It wasn't supposed to happen like this…

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Angst, and a canon character death.

Pairing: Tosh/Tommy

Word Count: 830

Author's Note: Written for the 2010 Halloween Prompt Fest at torchwood_fest. The title of this piece is taken from, the poem "Counting the Beats", by Robert Graves. Many thanks to my trio of marvelous betas, knic26 who helped me combat tense errors despite her being unfamiliar with Torchwood, remuslives23 who offered me some fantastic feedback that really helped to enrich the story, and thesteppyone who stepped in at the last minute to Brit-pick. Any remaining errors are my own. This is my first fan fiction offering in the Torchwood fandom. I found this prompt to be irresistible and inspiring and I hope that you all enjoy reading this piece as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Where Shall We Be When Death Strikes Home

Tommy Reginald Brockless felt numb as he learned his fate. For the unforgivable crimes of cowardice and failure to hold the line he was to be executed at dawn. His only thought as he heard his sentence, the only thing that he felt for sure in his soul, was that it wasn't supposed to happen like this. The problem was that Tommy wasn't exactly sure why.

His head felt clearer now that he had been taken away from the foul stench of the trenches; locked in a small room far from the rats and the lice and the thick, slick mud that coated everything and everyone it touched. Tommy had panicked under fire. As the shells rained down upon his company he froze, and broke down, utterly convinced that he was going to die in that mud. Now, instead of being killed by the enemy, he was going to be executed by his fellow soldiers.

He guessed that he had about an hour left before it happened, maybe two, and Tommy held his head in his hands and let his mind drift. He thought briefly of Ellie and the way that their two year courtship had ended. He wasn't sorry for ending it. The war had changed him in ways that she couldn't even begin to understand. No one could understand, except perhaps for Toshiko.

Toshiko.

The memories suddenly snapped back into place with the force of a full-blown storm and Tommy's eyes flew open with realization. His mind cleared, became his own again for the first time in weeks, and he wanted nothing else than to weep bitterly at the unfairness of it all. It wasn't supposed to happen like this, and now he knew why. He saved the world. He was a hero. Heroes were either supposed to get the girl and live happily ever after, or die valiantly in battle, bravely defending those they loved. They weren't supposed to die in disgrace, shot down for cowardice by his brothers in arms.

After all the things he'd seen, all the things he learned of life in the future, he should have been able to go back. He deserved the chance to be happy with Toshiko. He could picture it all so clearly. First Tommy would have got himself a job; perhaps Captain Harkness would have even let him work for Torchwood now that he no longer needed to go back in the freezer. Then he would have taken the time to court Toshiko properly.

He would take her out for dinner. They'd have gone out dancing, and talked about anything and everything. They could kiss unhurriedly; finally free to take their time without having to rush to fit everything into a single day. Then Tommy would see Toshiko smile. He would do everything in his power to make her smile. He lived for those smiles.

Then after a year or so, once Tommy was financially secure and he and Toshiko had the time to get to know each other even better, he would ask her to marry him. Once they were married, Tommy would buy a nice big house for them to live in and let Toshiko decorate it however she liked. He would even buy her a piano so she could finally take those lessons she wanted.

Tommy would make certain that she would never want for anything. They would raise a family together, grow old together, and live together. He would cherish every smile, every laugh, every moment with Toshiko and, for the first time in his short life, know what it meant to be truly happy.

But life wasn't fair. That dream life, that chance of happiness was never meant to be, and now he had run out of time. Tommy could hear the heavy footfalls of the military police officers as they approached the door of his small makeshift prison. The door flew open and he was roughly dragged to his feet and led outside. The sun was just beginning to peer over the horizon as Tommy was blindfolded and secured to a pole.

Life wasn't fair. Tommy had saved the world and no one except for Toshiko and her colleagues in the distant future would ever know the truth. He took a deep breath, perhaps his last, closed his eyes beneath the blindfold and pictured Toshiko's face. He saw her smile light up her face and heard the sound of her laughter ringing in his ears. He could taste the bitter salt of her tears as she kissed him goodbye.

He was scared but as the guns fired and the bullets pierced his flesh, Tommy could hear Toshiko reminding him what he was fighting for.

"For the future. For me. Because you're my brave handsome hero."

His heart beat slowed, and as his vision began to fade into darkness, he smiled. She was worth it. In the end, as his life slipped away, Tommy knew without a doubt that she was worth it.

You, love, and I,
(He whispers) you and I,
And if no more than only you and I
What care you or I ?

Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.

Cloudless day,
Night, and a cloudless day,
Yet the huge storm will burst upon their heads one day
From a bitter sky.

Where shall we be,
(She whispers) where shall we be,
When death strikes home, O where then shall we be
Who were you and I ?

Not there but here,
(He whispers) only here,
As we are, here, together, now and here,
Always you and I.

Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.- "Counting the Beats", by Robert Graves