Characters: Jack, Grey.
Written For: Challenge 619: Handle at tw100.
Spoilers: Exit Wounds.
Summary: Jack can’t hate his brother.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: Double drabble.
Jack grasped the handle of the morgue drawer and pulled; the cryogenic compartment slid out smoothly, silently, and he wiped the top clear of condensation, staring down at his brother’s face, trying to recognise in the adult features the little boy he remembered.
Grey had been such a happy, lively child, always running and laughing. Even as a baby he’d giggled more than he’d cried, and growing up he’d hero-worshipped his older brother. Sometimes he’d been annoying, pestering Jayce, as Jack had been called then, demanding attention, tagging along when Jayce wanted to play with his friends, kids his own age, but most of the time he’d loved his baby brother.
Then the Raiders had come, their father had given Grey into his older son’s protection, and…
Tears stung Jack’s eyes. He’d failed his brother, let go of Grey’s hand, and that had been the last time he’d see him until Grey had shown up in Cardiff with John Hart.
Now Tosh and Owen were dead, and yet Jack couldn’t find it in himself to blame Grey for being angry and bitter.
“I’m sorry, Grey, and I forgive you.” He slid the draw back in, wishing he could forgive himself.